


The Triple Shot

by subliminalJ



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And as i figure this thing out, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Cheating, Clexa, Clexa is Endgame, Closet case, College, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, From Sex to Love, Grounders Coffee, Guilty Clarke, Heart eyes all around, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Modern AU, Musician Lexa, Not So Guilty Pleasures, POV Clarke, POV First Person, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), Past and Present, Protective Clarke, Protective Lexa, Smut, Will update tags as we move along, all the above - Freeform, artist lexa, bear with me, clexa au, not for long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subliminalJ/pseuds/subliminalJ
Summary: It all started with a triple shot and a pair of green eyes she thought she'd never see again. Just like the first time.-----------------------------------------------I am absolutely AWFUL at summaries. I apologize... I literally thought about this story while drunk and watching The 100. I have not ever used AO3 so bear with me.





	1. Feel Like I'm Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> SO! 
> 
> After taking a 7 year hiatus from writing fanfiction, I am back and decided to hop on AO3. I have not ever used or posted anything to here before (just selfishly indulged in many reads of the amazing writers on here) but I am hoping to catch the hang of it quickly! Please excuse any spelling mistakes- they are all my own and if you find any please let me know so that I can correct them. I am super rusty so expect to find a few.
> 
> This story will be written in first person and I will state who before each chapter. Occasionally I may shift the POV from one person to the next and if so then I will make clear when that shift happens. A third person POV is unlikely but I may do a couple. This story will also shift from past to present- this change over will be made clear.
> 
> I am testing the waters with this first chapter and it may or may not turn in to a one shot. I hope you all do enjoy it :) comments and suggestions are welcome, though please do not be offended if I do not use a suggestion. There will be no commitment to a timeline for new chapters as I work shift work in 13hr stints and have a busy house with four animals and a wife, but I am hoping once a month.
> 
> There is some detailed Clarke/Finn sex in this first chapter- it's obvious when it starts and ends so you can skip over if you like... but let me reiterate, CLEXA IS ENDGAME!! Finn's intimate role is short lived... and not beyond this chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> This first chapter will be Clarke's POV......Happy Reading!

_`6 MONTHS AGO...  
` _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I breathed deep, the smell of fresh brewed coffee warming me as my legs lumbered me through the doors to my favorite coffee shop. It was early, far too early, why are people awake this early? Its inhumane really..

 

 

Yawning softly to myself I gave a lazy smile and nod to my favorite barista- Lincoln, owner and best coffee maker in all of California. Him and I had been friends for a few years now, having met in the same study abroad program, but as I walked up something was different. I watched as he handed my cup to a tall brunette; “Triple shot I am assuming? Or would you like a quad, you look as though you could use it” he chuckled out in a breath as the mysterious woman took the paper from him, “no a triple is just fine Lincoln, and thank you for the always welcome compliments on my appearance...” I trailed off as I watched the brunette stranger begin making my drink, squinting in her direction with silent scrutiny. There was something about her, a recognition that was desperately trying to claw it's way from the deepest depths of my subconscious.

 

A gentle clearing of his throat shocked me back, my already haphazard bun loosening more with the movement, “take a picture Clarke, it will last longer” his cocked grin teasing, “what do I owe you?” I spoke quickly, snapping my gaze back to Lincoln and ignoring the playful jab. “On the house today blondie...” crossing my arms I lifted a sculpted brow, already knowing there would be a condition, “on one condition; go easy on the new gal, she’s my cousin and just moved in to town last week” his voice dropped low as he leaned forward and nodded gently to the right. My eyes followed his gesture as I took in the thinner figure behind the counter once more, “If she makes it wrong Lincoln, you owe me free drinks for the next week” I huffed out as my attention curved back to him. Taking in the sudden change of his demeanor, he seemed a bit tense, “what?” I asked as he sighed “Maybe you could show her around or something? I just don’t have the time between running this place and with Octavia and I having the baby on the way. Just give her a chance. You know I hate to ask for favors, but we simply just don’t have the time.. please?” His eyes pleading, I relaxed my stance a bit “I will think about it Linc, you know how busy I am with the upcoming exhibit.. Nia is coming down hard on us to make sure the gallery is perf-“ he gave a chuckle, stopping me on my run on “Clarke, just think about it?” I sighed as I glance to the brunette once more then back to Lincoln. Uncrossing my arms and giving a soft smile “I will think about it, I think I may have a day free next week, but no promises, you know how Nia can be".

 

Smiling warmly he straightened up “I appreciate it, really... Just a thought but perhaps you could snag her an invitation to the upcoming exhibit?” my features softened and a brow quirked just barely as I took in his suggestion, it was a last minute request but doable. I nodded gently with a low hum vibrating from my throat in acknowledgment, I could find one more invitation.

 

“Tall Triple shot forrrr-” the stranger paused as she turned the warm paper in her hands to read the name, “Clarke?” My breath caught in my throat as she said my name, the ‘K’ clicking in a way that had my head spinning- it felt as though I was hearing my name said for the first time in a long time and not in the way the romantic stories play it up... It was as though I was reliving a moment from my past, but I had never seen this woman before.. Had I? My mind was reeling, my subconscious ripping down brick after brick on the carefully built walls I had constructed. 

 

Moving my blues to the cup, I trailed them up to meet her pale greens, a small smirk showing as she smoothly held the cup out to me. I froze, stuck in the forest of her eyes with my tongue lodging in my throat and leaving me speechless and fumbling as I took in her beauty. Knitting her brows a bit she looked at the name one more time before lowering the cup to the counter “you are Clarke.. right?” Hearing my name a second time jarred me back, the fog slowly lifting “y-yes, sorry uhmm... yes sorry I am Clarke but how did yo-“ I shook my head slightly as confusion took over my features. She waved her hand softly in dismissal, with possibly the smoothest laugh I have ever heard “Lincoln and Octavia talk about their beautiful blonde friend any chance they get” her hand reaching and patting Lincoln on the shoulder as he looked down with a guilty smile. (Of course) embarrassment swallowed me- the connection was so obvious! Lincoln must of shown me a picture of the two of them together before. But between the sudden enamor and my mouth failing to form a real sentence as her voice surrounded me in velvet, I completely stalled.

 

My cheeks tinted pink as my eyes settled on him, silently asking what that she meant “what? You’re one of the most important people in our lives Clarke, you’re the godmother to our coming child and I promise it’s nothing but good things and Octavia is always talking about how it's so unfair that you can roll out of bed and look like a model” he shrugged with a laugh and a wink. I rolled my eyes playfully, the pink now tinting the tops of my ears “riiiiggghhhhttt, the day you and Octavia don’t take every chance to expose my most embarrassing secrets will be the day pigs fly Linc” I laughed fully as I slowly shook my head side to side, turning my attention back to the woman who suddenly became very interesting “so I know Lincoln and you know me, but I don’t know you....” quirking a brow as I tapered my sentence. Reaching out for the cup and steadying it with both hands as I brought it to my lips, I hummed lowly, closing my eyes and savoring its warmth as the smooth liquid splashed down my throat and brought life to my mind and body.

 

Opening my eyes I focused back on the stranger before me fighting the urge to get lost in eyes that seemed to be devouring my composure as quickly as I desperately tried to build it “so, if I am going to thank you for the drink I should probably know your name” smirking, finding a sudden newfound confidence with the liquid courage.

 

The brunette with the forest in her eyes gave me a lopsided grin that made my stomach turn, knotting itself ten-fold “it's Lexa...” she paused “for short”. The turning in my stomach evolved in to a heat that shot straight down, igniting an all too familiar feeling “Lexa...” I allowed her name to roll off my tongue slowly, wondering what had suddenly gotten in to me as I glanced to Lincoln who was watching the exchange in silent humor- he was up to something, I could feel it. “A pleasure to meet you” my gaze drifting back and locking with Lexa’s “not bad by the way” teasing as I held up my coffee, “for a rookie that is” I finished with a small laugh, tipping the lid in her direction before taking another sip.

 

My legs springing to life with the second taste of heaven, I backed up slowly “I will see you two later, and thank you again for the coffee, you’ve given me just enough life to get through this Monday” I smiled giving a lazy wave before turning and pushing the door open, forcing composure as I distanced myself from the electric heat that suddenly seemed to suffocate me inside the shop. Entering the crisp morning air once more and taking a deep breath, I turned right and began walking as I got lost in deep thought with knitted brows, my subconscious not satisfied with my earlier explanation.. Why was she so familiar? What was she doing to me? Taking another sip of coffee, I was finally noticing how fast my heart was beating.. (its the triple shot- just a little strong is all) I repeated to myself as I came up to the door of my home, attempting to tamp down the anxiety coursing through me as I pushed the key in and opened it.

 

Shedding my jacket on a chair at the breakfast bar, I breathed in deeply before slowly letting it breeze through my lips and bringing a hand up to pull my hair tie out. Running pale fingers through messy tresses, the last brick of my subconscious fell and pieces began falling in to place. I had seen it in her too, the recognition; it was the way she had said my name and gave me that grin of hers... It has been so long, why now?

 

“I shouldn’t be feeling this way, I can’t feel this way” I spoke quietly to myself, rubbing my hand across my face. I knew what this feeling in my stomach was, it was not foreign to me and even if I tried to deny it, the increasingly uncomfortable wetness warming the apex of my thighs would never allow it.

 

Taking a shaky breath, I sat at the breakfast bar and rested my forehead in my hands, trying desperately to find a serenity in the messy web of thoughts now consuming me, dragging me so eagerly back towards a road that I had ran away from once before. So wrapped up in thoughts of my own imminent destruction, I was unaware of the other entering the room until strong arms wrapped around me from behind and lips kissed my shoulder, my body jumping slightly at the sudden invasion “I missed you this morning, where did you go?” I schooled my features before craning my neck back to kiss his chapped lips, with an award winning fake smile “I’m sorry, I went to Grounders to visit Lincoln and grab my morning coffee” I stood and turned in the arms of the man that I should love as I rested my hands on his chest, leaning up to kiss him softly good morning.. Bile rose in my throat as his rough hands grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, deepening our kiss. I nearly pulled away from his prodding tongue, but I stood my ground as my mind betrayed me- I wondered what her lips would taste like against mine... were they as soft as they used to be? I imagined they were, and did they still taste like honey and the smoke of her whiskey? I bet they did and I wished I could find out, and what about her hands? God my body had ached for them for years, her fingers were long and perfect and so good between my- “are you okay Clarke? You seem distracted” the kiss breaking as his gruff voice recklessly brought me back from my wandering thoughts. I looked to him and offered a reassuring smile as _the first lie_ of the morning dripped from my mouth like thick tar, it was practiced and perfect, I played the part so well just like I had for years “yeah, yeah... sorry Finn I am just a bit tired and thinking about all I have to do for the gallery still” my head shaking side to side lightly, pretending to shake the thoughts as I leaned up once more and pecked him on the lips before pulling from his grip. My body was itching to put distance between us as I tried weakly to push the intruding thoughts of brunette hair and green eyes from my mind.

 

I could feel his gaze raking over my body as I turned and began looking for a pan to cook us some breakfast- feeling sicker to my stomach by the second as I desperately tried to look busy.. I knew what was coming, what he was thinking as I heard his heavy steps bring him closer behind me, large hands gripping my waist and pulling my ass into his groin. Goosebumps covered my skin as bile rose in my throat for the second time that morning, his intent obvious as his hardening bulge made itself known, “I can think of a few ways to take your mind off things” his body completely pressed against my back as he rolled his hips against me and kissed my neck, pinning me to the edge of the counter.

 

Guilt swallowed me from the inside out like a black hole, consuming every bit of me as my lips twisted in a small grimace at his vulgar suggestion. He could not ever come close to the finesse of the brunette- while his words drained a lake dry, hers had a way of creating hurricanes in the middle of a desert. 

 

Finn truly wasn’t a bad guy, we had our ups and downs, and I wanted to love him like he deserved, I wished I could. We had been together so long.. I had pushed all the feelings I knew existed, to the darkest corners of myself to try and give him that love he deserved and lusted for, the feelings that he felt for me that I wished every day I could confirm to him that I felt too, but I think a part of him knew. I think he knew that although I loved him as a friend, I would not ever experience the same all encompassing love that he felt for me. I would not ever be _in love_ with him.

 

I was disgusted with myself- one look in to a pair of green eyes and everything I had tried so desperately to push down for the last three years came bursting free from the walls I had so carefully built, drowning me in my years of lies. We had gone down this road in our first year together- a drunken night out and one too many kisses exchanged with the daughter of his boss. Truth or Dare was all fun and games until it wasn’t. We never talked about that night, not truly. I remember the disappointment flooding from him as he looked over at me, my eyes unable to meet his gaze as I played with the fabric of my black dress.

 

Mind betraying me, I thought back to that night- the lies choking me as I covered the truth of my infidelity carefully, feigning drunken innocence as I selfishly protected my secrets....... _‘it was just some fun Finn, you encouraged it, every one did, why are you so upset?’. The dishonesty had burned my tongue raw as I spoke, my gaze locking with his before turning away, bending under his knowing composure ‘the way you looked at her Clarke, I know that look, it was more than just fun’ his voice accusing me, begging me to be honest with him, admit that I had enjoyed it... a little too much. I couldn’t give him the honesty he begged for and so rightfully deserved ‘I’m sorry, I’m just drunk Finn, can’t we just go to bed and talk about this in the morning? Please?’ I dismissed the adultery and stood up, my eyes pleading. I watched him relent with a heavy sigh and sagging shoulders as he stood, my anxiety engulfing me in guilt 'you shouldn’t have drank so much babe, but you’re right, let’s go to sleep and we can talk tomorrow’ he looked to me with softer eyes and a weak smile, his voice dripping with defeat as he walked past me to his room._

 

We never did talk about it the next morning..

 

 

Four years and three rejected proposals, and I still remember that night as vividly as yesterday. He never did know the truth of it all- about how I had spent countless nights in her bed, screaming and preaching the woman’s name, repeatedly locking her in place with my thighs as I rode out orgasm after orgasm on her tongue and fingers. She had taken me that night too, hours before the after party and that stupid game- my legs spread wide in invitation as I sat on the marble counter of an upstairs bathroom, my elegant black dress bunched at my hips and a stiletto digging into her back with her mouth latched to my dripping cunt. We had plenty of time while Finn made his rounds with the big wigs at the company gala.... _“god, fuck, Lexa” jaw dropping open in a low moan as I threw my head against the glass behind me, her tongue pushing deep inside my wet walls, ravaging me “fuck baby right there, yes, yes! Please don’t fucking stop” I panted, my body chasing air to fill my lungs as I rolled my hips and placed a hand on the top of her head, careful not to mess up her carefully curled locks as I encouraged her to push closer. A deep, guttural moan bubbled up from my chest and escaped my throat as her thumb moved to brush tight circles around my stiffening clit “FUCK!” I swallowed harshly, my throat dry as I pushed and rolled my hips harder and faster against her, the tight burning in my abdomen threatening to suffocate me “don’t stop, don’t stop! you’re gonna make me cum baby” my body felt hot and cold all at the same time as I trapped her with strong thighs, my peak ripping a scream from my throat and hitting me like a jack hammer. I stuttered and writhed, her tongue working me down from my high as a sheen of sweat brushed my forehead “shit” I muttered breathlessly, laying my head back against the mirror and closing my eyes, filling my lungs with the oxygen they had been starved off._

_Glancing down, my pupils blew wide in desire as they followed her hungrily, watching as she pulled back and stood up, running her fore finger across her chin and gathering the remainder of my cum before sucking it in to her mouth and cleaning it with a moan. My jaw went slack as a fresh wave of heat twisted and settled below my waist, my tongue flicking out to unconsciously skim my lips “you taste so fucking good Clarke” the 'K' clicking in a way only she could do, her seductive hum hitting my core as her finger released with a small pop and her eyes fluttered open. I couldn’t help but drag my blown hues to meet her pinning gaze, my mind and body shorting out under the fire of her burning look as it engulfed my senses, green hues nearly black “fuck” I growled lowly between teeth before wrapping a hand around her neck and pulling her forward, crashing our lips together in a rough passion. We collided with a shared moan as my tongue swirled against hers, tasting my sweet musk while my stilettos crossed at her lower back and locked her against me, my free hand gliding around her hip and up her back just to drag my fresh manicure back down. My hips rolled slowly against her in blind need, my body begging her to scorch me with her touch, craving to be burned alive._

_We lost ourselves to pleasure for another hour before the pressure of time settled, “if Finn asks, what do we-“ her laugh paused me as our eyes met in the mirror “what?” I asked with a smirk, hands smoothing out my dress and teasing my hair once more before turning to face her, a brow raised and waiting for an answer “Clarke, you worry too much. I’m his bosses daughter, if anything he will be happy to see we are getting along, don’t you agree?” Her head titled to the side with a cocky grin as a pink flush painted my cheeks and I nodded, catching a swollen bottom lip between teeth as she wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against her, my breath hitching as our chests brushed “same time next weekend? I am sure he told you he will be away in Washington DC” her free hand raised to cup my cheek and I stayed silent, leaning in to her gentle touch as my eyes flit across her features. Closing the small distance remaining, I captured her red lips in a quick deep kiss before pulling back “I’ll see you Friday, bring wine and an appetite” I flirted with a sultry smile..._

_We left separately, exactly seven minutes apart as we always did at these functions, taking caution to avoid fueling suspicious talk amongst the others._

 

_No one ever noticed._

_Despite the talk between Finn and I that night, Lexa still came over that next Friday with two bottles of wine and she claimed my body with the appetite I commanded she bring- her name the only word I knew as she ripped the lingerie from my body, both of us desperate and dripping down thighs. She fucked the guilt from my bones all weekend, exhausting me in pure ecstasy as her intoxicating kisses kept me drunk and completely satiated- like they had for months._

He never knew.

 

 

It was the first lie I ever told him, one that would open the floodgates and drench our relationship in them, one after the other in a crashing domino effect with no end. We had been doing so good, and one look into green eyes has my body burning in need of her touch and the lace between my legs soaked.

 

 

AUTHOR NOTE: (BELOW IS THE FINN/CLARKE SCENE, SKIP TO END IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ)

 

 

Rolling my ass back into him slowly, I turned in his grip and wrapped one arm around his neck, kissing him deeply. My tongue pushed past his lips as I pressed my body against him, forcing myself to try and believe that all the lies didn’t exist and that I did love him and did want this, that I did want him deep inside me. Our tongues fought for dominance while my other hand took residence beneath the waist band of his boxers, my fingers wrapping around and stroking him to full length as I forced what I hoped was a convincing moan.. I could do this, I had to, he deserved it and it had been weeks since I allowed him to take me, the upcoming gallery exhibit and exhaustion draining me. I could give him this one moment, to make another empty promise. I had to.

 

I cringed internally as his calloused hands roughly moved under my shirt and squeezed my tits (I bet hers would feel softer, gentler as she-) I kissed him deeper, biting his lip and stalling my thoughts.

 

Taking my hand slowly from his length, I brushed the swollen tip of his cock once more before tugging on his boxers. I almost sighed in relief as he removed his hands from my chest , taking my hint. Removing myself from the kiss, I tilted my head down and watched as he pulled the fabric just low enough for his shaft to spring free. Unable to catch myself I groaned deeply- panic setting in as I hoped it sounded more like pleasure than the disgust I felt bubbling in my chest, constricting me. Chancing a glance up, relief washed through me; Finn was so lost in his excitement that he hadn’t noticed the difference.

 

“God baby you have me so fucking hard” his blown pupils devouring me as he leaned down and latched on to my neck, a hand quickly sneaking past my yoga pants and lace, eagerly brushing his fingers through my slick folds and moaning deeply against my skin. I fought to keep my mind from wandering back to green eyes- a losing battle at best as I struggled to focus on the man I should love instead of the woman who had railroaded me into a stuttering, tongue tied mess with one click of a ‘K’.

 

I stopped fighting it... my mind unable to escape the vivid picture of her knowing eyes as it devoured my every conscious thought.

 

Allowing my lids to slip shut and exposing more of my neck to his hungry mouth, I thought back to that moment barely more than an hour ago- a new wave of wet heat drenched my already soaked entrance as I got lost in my thoughts of a color green I never knew I still wanted; a green that I couldn’t help but desire. Feeling a finger roughly claim me I gasped for air and pulled away in a panic, raising a hand and pushing against Finn’s chest as I nudged him back softly “wait” I spoke sharply, his hand quickly drawing back as disappointment smothered him. Guilt once again stabbed me as I looked up at him “did I hurt yo-“ he began “no, no, I just...” cutting him off I bit my lip and looked to the side to avoid his pleading gaze “please Clarke, it’s been so long, we’ll be quick so you aren’t late for work” his hand grabbing my chin and dragging my eyes back to him “please baby I miss you, and you’ve been working so hard, we both need this”.

 

I stayed silent for a moment, feeling sick to my stomach as he spoke. Searching his face with my eyes, and smelling my own sweet musk on his finger under my chin, I knew I couldn’t deny him again (you can do this Clarke). Glancing away I put on my best look as I bit my lip and lowered my voice, reaching a hand up to grab his from under my chin and pulling it away before giving him a heavy lidded look as I sucked his finger between my lips. Circling my tongue slowly around the digit I cleaned every drop of my self off of him, moaning as I pulled away with a soft pop. Looking to him, I smirked “I want you to take me from behind, that’s all” I teased seductively as i turned around and leaned over, wiggling my ass at him... _This was my second lie of the morning_.

 

I couldn’t look at him anymore, I had to turn away, I was being selfish and I knew it, but this was all I could manage to give. I heard him sigh in relief before slapping a hand to each mound and cupping my round cheeks roughly, squeezing “you know just what I like don’t you” he growled through teeth as his grip moved from my ass to my waist, hooking his thumbs inside lace and pulling down quickly in excitement, leaving the fabrics just low enough for access to what he desired most.

 

I gripped the edge of the counter as I swallowed quietly, the lump in my throat demanding it be known, the sour taste reminding me of my darkest truth. I closed my eyes as I felt him move closer, pressing his hardened length against the warm, pale skin of my ass. My stomach coiled tight in anxiety as I felt him take himself in his hand and drag slowly between my cheeks, brushing past my first tight hole. Stopping his tip at my soaking entrance he slowly pumped his hips in small movements, smothering himself in my heat ' _a heat there because of someone else'_ , my subconscious invading my every thought. Schooling my self I ground hips back into him, forcing a dirty groan out of my throat, the kind I know he likes.

 

Glancing over my shoulder and slowly capturing my bottom lip before letting it go, I rotate my hips and drop my jaw slightly as his tip nudges against my swollen clit, once-twice, his eyes closing with a heavy, throaty moan as I coat his shaft.

 

“Fuck me, Finn, I want you to take me and fuck me hard” I husk out as his lids fly open, holding my gaze with dark eyes and a wicked grin. The words tasted bitter as I spoke but he needs this, the lies...they are for the better. _This was my third lie of the morning_..

 

Watching him cast his eyes down in focus, I turn back and lean further forward. Dropping my back, I jut my ass in encouragement as I offer him more and easier access.

 

I hold my breath as he drags through my folds a bit longer before stopping at my entrance, the coil building tighter in my stomach, threatening nausea as I feel him guide the thick head in and push through my resistance. I bite down on my tongue, hard, my anxiety rising as I feel his hand move to tightly grip my hips. I close my eyes and knit my brows, knowing what comes next as his fingers dig in roughly before thrusting his hips forward, sheathing himself in my tight walls with one swift, movement.

 

I clench my jaw in discomfort as his cock stretches me from the inside, “fuck” we both groan in unison- for different reasons. I let out a silent shudder as I adjust to the deep intrusion, “god Clarke you’re so fucking wet” he speaks deeply as he begins thrusting in and out, his hands pulling my hips to meet him halfway “you feel so good wrapped so fucking tight around my cock, god I missed you” the slapping of our skin echoing through the kitchen as he bends at the knees and cants up, rutting in to me at the new angle, the head of his cock brushing the entrance of my cervix with every thrust, reaching deeper than before.

 

I gyrate my hips in time with his thrusts, meeting him half way as I let out moan after moan of encouragement, green eyes fueling the lies dripping heavy from my lips in fuck me’s and yes’ as my mind is lost in memories. I have lost count of the lies so far this morning as the tears threaten to come to the surface “oh god, fuck, Clarke” I can hear he is close. The coil of anxiety in the pit of my stomach begins to unravel in anticipation for the end as I feel his pace quicken and his grunts becoming rougher, burying himself to the hilt with every stroke. Pulling a hand from the counter I reach down and begin quickly running circles over my clit, the heat building and winding through me as I drop my jaw “yes, fuck right there Finn, don’t stop” I moan breathless, her name nearly slipping out- _more lies_.

 

I feel the heat starting to spill over, snapping me as my walls flutter around his cock. I can feel his hips begin to falter as he pounds my drenched pussy harder and faster, his fingers digging in to my sides deeper and no doubt leaving bruises “fuck, I’m gonna cum baby” his words reaching my ears in a different voice as I chase my impending orgasm. My moans come out in screams as he plows into my tight walls one more time before locking his hips with a loud groan of pleasure. His swollen dick begins twitching inside me as he dumps rope after rope of thick white cum, my body stiffening as I hit my peak and my orgasm takes him for everything he has, sucking him in as deep as possible as I roll my hips and slowly ride out my high.

 

He begins moving again in slow pumps, the ropes coming weaker as he fills me to the brim until he is empty and deflated. Pulling out and leaning against my back, our bodies rise and fall trying desperately to fill our lungs with air. I pull my hand from between my thighs and curl my fingers in, digging the nails into my palm painfully.

 

 

AUTHOR NOTE (END FINN/CLARKE SCENE)

 

 

My kitchen smells like sex, sweat, and lies; consuming every fiber of my body, the cum dripping slowly down my leg begging to be known as the physical reminder of my guilt. I feel him kiss my shoulder and lift his weight from my back, the waist band of his boxers snapping with an echo in the silence. I lean up stiffly and pulled my pants and panties back up in shame. Muscled arms wrapping around my waist with a kiss to my neck, his weight was on me once more “don’t you feel better now? You should hurry up and go shower though babe, or you’ll be late for work... not that I wouldn’t mind giving you another stress relief” I can hear the smirk in his voice, thinking his words are clever as I swallow hard with a constricted throat and let out a weak chuckle “me either” I try to sound convincing as exhaustion settles over me. Turning in his arms I reach up and cup his face softly, leaning up and pressing a quick, innocent kiss to his lips. I offer a small hopeful smile and move from his embrace “don’t wait up for me tonight, I will be in the office late” my voice is quiet as he offers me a sweet smile and nod before I turn and walk towards the bathroom. _This is my biggest lie of the morning_. I know where I will be.

 

I keep my steps calm and collected as I push open the bathroom door, my composure breaking the moment it clicks shut. I can feel the warm streams of salt falling now, no longer under the lock and chain of my lies. I lean my back against the door and slide down to sit with a soft thump, the silent sobs racking my body as my head drops to my knees and shaking hands dig through blonde hair desperately attempting to ground myself. I feel so dirty.

_He came thinking of me, but_

_I came thinking of her._


	2. Feel Like I'm Drowning pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. I finally feel satisfied with all the edits, though if there are any spelling or grammar errors, they are completely my own and please let me know so I can fix them! I edited this without my reading glasses so I am throwing hope to the wind on all that...
> 
> I intended for Ch. 1 and 2, to simply remain a two part, but me being the me that I am, it is now a 3pt and I am currently working on the third.. It was just too easy to keep writing once I finished this one. It's not finished but it is started.
> 
> This chapter is from Lexa's point of view and jumps back just a bit, with a glimpse into the first time her and Clarke met (horny college kids these days, I tell ya....). I have yet to decide what time I want the third part to be written as, but am juggling the idea of adding in some Clexa smut.. I know I added a bit to the first chapter but I feel I need to wash some eyes out after the Finn and Clarke scene (including my own)...
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>  
> 
> Happy reading! :)

_` 9 MONTHS AGO... ` _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rolling my eyes at the screen in front of me, my cousin never failed to test my absolute boundaries, the aggravation laying the foundation for a heavy heat in my chest “Lincoln! You know it’s not that easy” I clipped at the camera firmly, “Lexi it really is tha-“ _did he just call me Lexi?_ “You know I hate that nickname, Lexa works just fine” cutting him off as I leaned back in the polished wood computer chair and crossed my arms, raising a brow as I stared him down through the screen with hues shooting daggers, stabbing with a hard scrutiny. Whoever decided we were cousins must be playing an incredibly cruel joke, because we certainly fought like a brother and sister. All the love and just a bit more sass than _ever_ necessary and no matter how much we aged, one always had to try and one up the other “okay, fine... LEXAAAAA” purposely drawling out my name just to annoy me- it worked “damnit Lincoln can you be serious for one minute!” speaking shortly as I sat up in the chair abruptly and rested my face in my hands, fingers lightly rubbing the approaching migraine from my temples.

 

Hearing his playful chuckle through the speakers simply fueled my aggravation as I huffed an inflated sigh, my body beginning to feel hot as the heat in my chest expanded to an orange hot ember, red painting the tops of my ears “Listen” my jaw clenching tightly, forcing tolerance as I looked back to the camera and dropped my hands languidly to the desk top “I really don’t know what to do, and you know me, I always have some sort of plan, but I do not want to take over the company and Aunt Indra will _not_ let it go! She says _‘Alexandria, why do you insist on wasting your valuable, time and education on useless slips of paper with drivel on them and an art collection, you are meant to lead just as is your duty to this family and company, what would your mother have to say'_ _"_   a hand raising in mockery as I opened and closed it, dramatically and poorly imitating, straightening my composure as a pang of loss hit my hollow chest at the thought of my late mother. 

 

Mockery? Had I really curved to such naivety over these circumstances? I had a Master’s Degree earned through blood, sweat and tears- clawing my way out of a dark past to create a brighter future, one I could be proud of. I taught piano courses to the children of doctors and trophy wives who were too busy to care. I was the face and personality of the company, expertly navigating the always dangerous web of the press- answering here and avoiding there with a finesse I am sure Bach himself would be impressed with.. and I could not manage to display myself as the leader I was when faced with the insistent ignorance that was thrown at me like spitfire? I had carefully and very finely held the reputation of an entire company on my shoulders for three years now, combing here and there when needed.. and yet.. Had my family truly dug so far under the tough layers of my skin that I could not gauge a more appropriate response? _How weak._

 

_Though_ Indra made one good point; what would my mother say, or rather, think? I imagined her indifferent features measuring me up and down in a silence so deafening that the sound of my own heart beating was sure to drive me mad if I did not bend to her will- the pines of her eyes much more mature and dark than my own, swallowing my bravado until I was nothing more than a child to be taught another lesson. There were always lessons, and just the thought that I may be disappointing her in some way sent an icy wave of regret flowing down my spine. Despite it all, the grooming that began in childhood, there was still a deep part of me that was forever that little girl who only wished to please her mother, to one day find a light of acceptance in those eyes, to one day feel vindicated and accepted. I think that maybe I had seen that light in her eyes the day she drew her last breath to blanket me in her very last ‘I Love You’, or at least I like to hope that I had.

 

Laughing weakly in defeat as I scolded myself and dropped my hand back down followed by my head to rest on my arms, I could hear my cousins own deep humor as he bathed in my misery “it’s not funny Lincoln! I need help, I don’t know what to do, how to get away from it all. I do not want to take over the company” muffling into my sleeve, desperately trying to convey the range of my distress “she will not stop droning on and on about how I am “ _wasting my Ivy League education_ ”” sitting back up and raising my hands, my fingers showcasing mocking air quotes as I rolled my eyes at the recollection “on day dreams and hobbies Linc, that’s what she calls my gallery and music studio- DAY DREAMS AND HOBBIES! I need your help. You know this is unlike me- always the one with the answer and this time I am lost with no paddle in open water I didn’t ask for” I groan in frustration as the orange embers begin to flame in an anger that slowly spreads up my chest, her words the oxygen that helps it ignite as I think back to our conversation earlier in the week.

 

I did not want to be in the family business any more than I was, I had a gallery and a music studio that consumed what little time I already had in a day, the last thing I wanted was to take on an obligation that I had not ever asked for- one I was supposedly _born for_. Wasn’t the beauty of birth the idea that it was your opportunity to grow and build your own life and live it as you saw fit? Was that not the entire theory of absolution of the _‘gift of life’_? The philosophy that with every gift of life given, there is the gift of potential, that within a measure of nature you were gifted in place of one taken. Where was the potential in the gift of life if what you envisioned did not fall dutifully in line with what another demanded it should be? The give and take of the theory was eradicated and no more, your gift commandeered and your life simply used as a pawn in a scheme.

 

“Well Lexi..” my head snapped up at lightning speed and glowered daggers at my cousin, a low growl escaping as my  gaze glazed darker, my threat silent but there _that ridiculous nickname has got to find another host_ “look, it really is that easy... isn’t it?” My ears perked up at the first promising sentence he had said all morning, _thank goodness! I was beginning to think that I was deaf AND blind_ “what do you mean..?” each word spoken deliberately, my gaze narrowing as I studied him, on edge as I  waited impatiently to hear what he could possibly have to suggest.

 

Lincoln was quiet- watching him as he mulled his thoughts over and carefully chose his next words.. he was going to say something I most likely wouldn’t care for. Waiting in quiet expectation, my desire to pry grew. My cousin was rarely one to avoid blurting things out, especially if it fueled my discomfort and distress... a large hand came up and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced away and then back to me “Lex...” sounding nearly unsure how to proceed, what was his deal? It couldn’t be that crazy of a suggestion could it? “Spit it out Linc! My goodness, I am going to grow a grey hair sitting here bathing in my own anxiety while you move like molasses to finish a sentence” I exaggerate with a huff and roll of my eyes as I lean back in the chair once more and cross my arms, “Lex... just” he sighs “why don’t you just sell the gallery and studio and move back down here?” I freeze in place, my body pulling taut with my words catching in my throat as I swallow them back dryly, acid rising and washing them down.. move back to California? Has he officially lost every last grain of common sense? I left for a reason and did not ever come back for many more. My brows pinch together as I stare at the desk lost in thought.

 

_Surely_ I had misunderstood him? He knows he must be senseless for suggesting that I mo- “Look Lex,” his voice softening as it reaches me through the speakers, dragging my contemplation back up “I know how much you don’t want to come back here, but it’s a way out and it’s really that easy. I am not saying sell all of your personal art, just the gallery and same with the studio. Don’t sell all the equipment, just the studio itself. Plus it’s different you know? Different city, different people... GOOD people Lex. There’s plenty of galleries and studios around that you could immerse yourself in, or the college is always looking for music tutors. We’re up North, near Bodega Bay. You could find yourself a nice waterfront property with some land and place that grand piano in your living room overlooking the water like you’ve always wanted” his run on hopeful as he spoke, intelligently choosing his words and carefully appealing to what mattered most to me.

 

Studying him through the screen, his words invaded the thoughts that fought against moving back- he had good points, really good ones. I could just pick up and leave, not telling Indra or Titus anything. I could move and have the things I had always wanted, I could escape the suffocating clutch of family breathing heavy expectations down my neck.. so lost in my thoughts as my mind fought and rolled over his suggestion, my gaze flicked to him at the sound of a name I thought I would not ever hear again “I’m sorry, what was that? I wasn’t listening” I played off nonchalantly, unsure that I had heard him correctly. He rolled his eyes before beginning again “I SAID, Octavia and I have a nice group of friends here that we could introduce you to- they are great people. One of them I think you would get along well with, Clarke- she curates a gallery here locally and occasionally is a guest speaker and tutor for the art program at the college. They have an exhibit coming up that I think you would love- something like modern art or whatever. If you can be here before the exhibit, I could ask if she can secure another invitation for one more? Everyone is going; it’s her largest one of the year and I understand that even some of her own works will be on a wall” I’m sure my heart stopped at the second mention of the name. It wasn’t her was it? It couldn’t possibly be..

 

What were the odds that Lincoln knew the same Clarke as myself? Not very likely, right?

 

I was shaken to silence, my heart rate picking up and threatening to flat line me as my mind went into overdrive, trying desperately to toss this new information aside as a simple fluke. The last time I had heard from _my_ Clarke was about three or more years ago, and her disposition was made incredibly clear when I told her I was moving to New York. Though what could I have possibly expected her to do? Beg me to stay? Ask to come with? But my naivety had significantly outweighed logic. I had walked away, shifting a wall in place with my tail between my legs, her blues storming with anger during the conversation and their color drowning me as I turned and left, unable to continue our back and forth as the weight of things left unsaid drained the oxygen from the room. That night was the last I had seen her, I was scheduled to leave the following week but had left that weekend, not three days after our last exchange, to prideful to face her one more time for a goodbye; though doubted that she would have agreed to one anyhow.

 

Shaking my head slightly I took a slow breath and stretched up, pulling my glasses off and tossing them to the desk gently with a clack, moving to pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh before catching the look of my much too excited cousin “I will consider it... I will not make any promises- it would be absolute hell to pick up and leave” words breathed out slightly defeated as I propped my chin in a now clammy palm, what other options were there? “You will love it here Lex, I promise” he beamed with a huge grin- I didn’t have to say it for him to know. Lincoln was right, moving back west would set me on the other side of the country and away from Indra and Titus, but more importantly it would put me at a polar opposite to the current interests and assets of the company.

 

My mother’s brother Gustus had taken over our operations in the west as the sole investor and had no desire to force me in. I was curious too, to meet this Clarke of his.. what were the odds that it would be her? Despite the crash and burn our past relationship had taken, I did think of her often and wonder if she found the happiness in her life and art that she had so passionately sought after- I hoped that she had and perhaps even rid herself of that ridiculous boyfriend of hers- she was far too good for him and deserved someone who could be as intimately and passionately involved and supportive of her interests as she was. He never had understood her connection with a canvas; not like I had. Always preferring that she be the trophy at his side during the gala’s. The foolish boy had no idea of the treasure that he held in his hands, a treasure that he didn- _stop it, you no longer have that right._

 

Reprimanding myself for losing time in my thoughts, I offered my cousin a small smile, “Thank you Lincoln, for everything” I watched as he nodded knowingly “when do you think you can be here? I know the perfect property for you” I laughed softly at his eagerness “send me the details and I will let you know, but within the month I would presume. If you don’t hear from me within the month than Titus has taken me hostage in the basement at corporate” I joked as we both laughed in unison, not so sure we could completely put it past the cut throat lawyer. Being privy to some of the more black market dealings that sometimes happened, it was hard to put anything past him.

 

“I will talk to you soon” reaching my hand up in a small wave goodbye, pushing the laptop screen closed once he had disconnected.... “California... I did not ever think I would go back” sighing softly through my lips to myself as I leaned back in the chair, pushing the tip of my right foot to the ground and gently rocking myself back and forth as I scanned the room around me.

 

Eyes landing on my most prized possession, I stood and padded slowly over to the Steinway and Sons grand piano, reaching a hand out and gently running my fingers across the ivory before taking a seat on the leather and wood bench. Breathing deep and looking out the large living room window at the illuminated city of Boston, a stark contrast to the blanket of night surrounding it, I let out the breath and found the sheet of music in front of me. I knew the piece by heart and figured I always would as both hands began dancing across the keys, starting slow with bass F and A flat as Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi rang from the solid body in strong notes, my eyes closing as the music took me back nearly six years to the first time I had been immersed in the color blue…. _Shifting backward on the old wooden bench, I grabbed the hem of my university hoodie and swiftly pulled it over my head, adjusting the loose v-neck and shaking dark waves from my face as I laid the fabric across the bench beside me. It was insisted that I perform a piece at the upcoming company gala but between working down at the café and finals this week, I had barely a minute to sleep let alone practice anything to play. Indra would have no excuse, it was expected that I act and perform as a Woods, as was my duty.. As it always was and would be._

 

_Glancing briefly out the window into the evening, I took comfort in the quiet surrounding me as I tucked some loose hairs behind my right ear before settling my fingers on the cold keys and closing my eyes. Gently tapping bass F to start, my feet softly worked the pedals as the low beginning of my favorite Ludovico Einaudi piece flowed from my heart onto the keys, the first song my mother had ever taught me and the last one she heard. Moving with the music my head swayed from side to side, fingers mapping the ivory faster and faster, filling every movement with emotion as the piece built to its peak._

 

_My mind and body were lost to tie after tie as I opened my green hues and followed from one side to the next, unaware of the single audience that had entered the room. Reaching it’s peak, I settled into the lower notes, pausing briefly. Taking a slow breath in, my worn vans began working the soft and sostenuto pedal in a unified dance as my hands skimmed across the piano before me to build and finish the second half, softly humming the emotional Italian dialect to myself._

_Ending on the last low note, my right shoe holding it in damper, I pulled my hands from the keys, moving one up to run through thick waves with a sigh. It was rusty, not good enough. I would have to make sure and practice it at least once a day before the upcoming gala next month or I would surely not ever hear the end of it from Indra,_ _“don’t tell me you are one of those incredible, yet troubled musicians, are you?”_ _the silky voice startling me as I jumped slightly and craned my neck to glance over my shoulder, meeting the most cerulean blue I have ever seen, my mind and body hesitating as I found myself captured and locked in place, unable to find the words to respond_ _“do you mind?”_ _she gestured beside me_ _“if I join you”_ _I nodded slowly, just in the slightest, as I watched her push from the wall and stride towards me. I could have sworn it was in slow motion- one of those scenes from the movies when the main character is admiring the beauty of their desire._

 

_Turning back to face the keys, a slight layer of anxiety began settling over me as I found air to fill my lungs, what was wrong with me? One beautiful woman says hello and I suddenly cannot function? Glancing to my left I reached over quickly and captured my sweatshirt, dropping it to the floor beside me_ _“here”_ _I spoke delicately as I looked up and caught her kind eyes once more, my hand gesturing beside me. Catching her smile, I returned it with my own lopsided, tender one as she sat_ _“you’re really good by the way”_ _she complimented,_ _“thank you”_ _the words brushing past my lips smoothly as the tips of my ears splashed the lightest pink, I was not used to being snuck up on like this and more importantly, the building should have been locked._

 

_Knitting my brows in curious thought, I leveled my gaze on her once more_ _“not that I don’t mind the company but how did yo-“_ _I began,_ _“get in to the building?”_ _cutting me off and finishing my sentence as she raised a brow with a playful and smug smirk_ _“I.. yes. Yes, how did you get in here? I thought this place was locked at night”_ _I managed to stutter out with an easy laugh, the nervousness and anxiety lifting from my chest. I could feel the heat rising up my neck as she held my eyes_ _“I could ask you same could I not?”_ _she taunted, holding that same smug smirk as I offered a pearly white grin, looking away briefly as a chuckle escaped my throat before shifting my gaze back_ _“yes”_   _I nodded in amusement_ _“you could… though I have tutored in this building since I started here and not once have I seen you”_ _quirking a brow playfully,_ _“you’re right, and I could certainly explain why, but…”_ _she trailed off, playing the cliffhanger as I waited, relenting shortly after_ _“but what?”_ _I laughed lowly,_ _“but the greatest mystery of all is to have one.. is it not?”_ _she inquired, her tone challenging me lightheartedly as her blues blazed a trail across my features, studying. Holding my ground as she pinned me with her gaze, another lopsided grin took residence on my lips, tugging at the sides as I kept my own eyes unmoving_ _“when would you like your lesson to start?”_ _I surrendered smoothly, a hand gesturing to the piano in front of us_ _“teach me the one you were playing?”._

_We spent the next few hours laughing and playing on the old grand in the room, the hours feeling like minutes, my world stopping on it’s axis with every humored laugh that escaped her throat. I was not the type to enjoy being interrupted, I was exceptionally methodical and liked my days to go a certain way- I had a system. But.. The curious blonde was one extraordinary allowance. Shifting the heavy wooden cover back over the keys, I flipped my right wrist towards me to read the time “going so soon? Am I not entertaining enough for you?” she teased, nudging me gently with her shoulder “actually, far more entertaining than I would expect from a stranger, certainly an unexpected Saturday evening” I laughed fully, nudging her back. Feeling her shift, I glimpsed to my left and found myself trapped in place under the lock of her intense regard as she now faced me straddling the bench._

 

_My own emeralds flicking between her azures, the tension thickened as the silence between us stretched “I finally figured it out” her eyes narrowing as she spoke quietly “I think that’s the first I have heard a blonde say tha-“ punching my arm playfully and cutting me off “that was a good one, I will give you that” a gentle giggle breezing from her throat as her eyes stayed locked with my own, a heat coiling low in my stomach “I finally figured out where I have seen you before” her gaze shifting down briefly as her hands played with a string of denim, “you work at the café don’t you?” her look flowing back to meet mine, a slight pink flushing her cheeks and her bottom lip caught carefully between teeth. The café? Surely I would have noticed someone like her if I had served her there? Clearing my throat, desperately trying to quench the desert that had taken residence, I offered a tender smile “Guilty as charged.. Though I don’t recall ever seeing you there, and I trust that I would have noticed” my tender smile maturing into a flirtatious smirk as I spoke lowly, the pink painting her cheeks darker “the name is Clarke” holding her hand out “Lexa, a pleasure to meet you” turning slightly in my seat and taking her right hand in my own lightly, an electric shiver running down my back at the contact._

 

_Our hands separating after a far too long to be normal hold, the thick tension settled back between us as our gazes studied one another “I don’t normally do this but, do you want to get out of here? Not sure if you are a big wine drinker but I have a couple bottles back at my apartment that I wouldn’t mind sharing. I would love to get to know you some more” her voice soft and testing as I mulled over her suggestion thoughtfully, my mind and body humming with the excitement in the prospect of spending some more time with the curious woman named Clarke, “I would love to” smiling as I turned away and leaned over to grab my hoodie and pull it back on. Standing, I walked towards the door and pulled it open, holding it as I turned back to Clarke, watching as she made her way over “lead the way” my free hand gesturing out the door as I flashed her a soft grin._

_Truthfully, the wine was unnecessary- her intoxicating perfume had me drunk the entire walk back to her apartment. Though that didn’t stop me from eagerly swallowing the last bit of the smooth cabernet as I sat across from the blonde, sitting sideways on the couch with one leg drawn up and my elbow resting against the back cushion, my head resting comfortably in my palm as we shared the things we were passionate about and why. She was an artist- that would explain her attention to detail and ever observant gaze, and she had a dream of curating her own gallery someday. I shared with her that although not an artist myself, I did have a place in my heart for canvas paintings and maintained a collection of my own- we made plans for her to come over sometime soon and I would show her the paintings I have collected throughout my travels. She asked me question after question about my piano playing and wondered why I did not want to sign to a record considering I was clearly talented; I explained that I simply liked to share the joy of learning and playing music, but that someday I wouldn’t mind opening a studio where others could record or sign up for lessons. It was mostly truth.._

 

_Honestly I did not wish to follow in my mother’s footsteps. I had seen how the career choice had taken it’s toll on her throughout my childhood, and how she had paid for it later after retirement- I wanted nothing to do with it._

 

_Leaning over and setting my wine glass atop the coffee table, I checked my watch and glanced back to Clarke, “It seems as though you have effectively kept me up past midnight- don’t tell my sister Anya, she has been trying for years with no success” I laughed as she finished off her own glass of wine “you are more than welcome to stay here Lexa” her voice low and smooth as she set her glass aside and stood up, a sudden anticipation coursing through my bones as I stood too “follow me, you can borrow some of my comfy clothes” tossing me a friendly smile over her shoulder, I gave her a slight nod before she turned and walked down the hall towards her room, my feet acting faster then my brain as I paced carefully behind her. Waiting patiently just on the inside of her bedroom door as she rummaged through her drawers, I chanced a glance around me and took in her room- I couldn’t help but smile a bit, it wasn’t as meticulously organized as mine but it was clean and so very ‘Clarke’ with a canvas in one corner and oil paints in a box to the side with brushes, pictures of family and friends on the wall beside the vanity to my left.. It was warm, homely, welcoming? All of the above._

_Lost in thought, I nearly missed her walking back to me, holding out a pair of sweats and tank top “these should fit, the sweats are my old high school ones and have always been a size or two longer on me” her hues focused intensely on my own as I chanced a quick look down to reach out and grab the offered clothing, greens moving up and catching her blues once more. My breath hitched silently as I realized just how close she was standing, the smell of wine and her perfume my new favorite concoction as my body went rigid with desire, her blown pupils swallowing me whole. My gaze flicking to her lips quickly then back up, I asked for permission, “please” her answer barely above a whisper, something I may not have caught on any other day without the deafening silence that was strung heavy between us. Flicking down to her lips once more, I set the clothes aside on the vanity and took the one step forward, closing the distance between us to mere inches in one fluid motion._

 

_The anticipation coiled tight in me as I held her blown gaze, reaching a hand up and gripping the back of her neck as I leaned in just slightly, maintaining the last inch. My free hand reaching out and grabbing her hip, I pulled her body snug against my own, the heat of her against me igniting the coil in me. Resting my forehead against her own, our shallow breaths tangled together as I sustained the last inch between our lips, giving her a chance to back out, my dark forests searching her midnight sea for any doubts. Finding nothing but the fire of her own desire reflecting my own, I closed the last inch and connected our lips in a slow, deep kiss. I am not sure who moaned or if we both did as our lips moved expertly against one another as though we have known this kiss before, switching sides as my tongue swiped across her bottom lip before nipping it seductively, asking for entrance that was immediately granted. A low moan erupted from my chest at the contact as our tongues met, weaving along one another in a heavy craving for more, begging to be satiated by the others taste as my fingers gripped her hip tighter and my body pressed harder against her own._

_It was all too much and yet not enough as she backed me into the door and secured me with her curves, my hand smoothing over her hip and tracing a blistering pattern across her lower back then up and underneath her shirt, short nails digging in and eliciting a demanding groan from the blonde. My body was set ablaze by her inferno as we pushed and pulled, fighting for control as I flipped our position and pinned her roughly against the door, my hands moving quickly to grab and trap her own above her head as a guttural moan vibrated from her throat in approval at the show of dominance._

 

_Withdrawing from the kiss slowly as my ears perked up at the distant sound of a door shutting, a cheeky smirk formed, enjoying her chase of my lips “I would love to stay, Clarke, but I think you have company” I husked out lowly, releasing her hands as I took a step back, my eyes regarding her with a dark, viscous lust “I’ll see you around?” her shaded blues drilled into me, my body feeling hot as I felt a surge of wetness drench my panties, her gaze nearly crumbling my resolve, “I’ll make sure of it..” she puffed out with a pause, pushing from the door and stepping around me, pale fingers reaching out and skimming across my abdomen seductively as she did, sending a heated quiver down my spine “Lexa” she finished, her breathe hot on my neck. Feeling her pull back, I canted my head to the side and watched her walk into the bathroom on the other side, the soft click of the door signaling my time to leave. A grin crossing my swollen lips, I quietly made my way out of her apartment and home, my mind racing with the anticipation of our next time, my mouth watering at the prospect of burying my face between her milky thighs and making her mine for hours._

_That was the first time._

A chance meeting and two bottles of wine is how it all began..I slowly opened my eyes as a finger delicately touched the last note, my foot hitting the pedal and drawing out its low and final bellow.

 

I had to leave. I was being suffocated by responsibilities I had not ever asked for, and as dutiful as I may be, I was tired of being told who I was going to be. They may not be willing to entertain my _hobbies_ but when my fingers danced across ivory... that was the one moment that I found true peace and purpose, and if chasing that meant returning to the one place I turned my back on, then so be it. Perhaps this was karmas way of cashing in on retribution? I am sure there was plenty to be had.. We were not all without demons and skeletons in a closet.

 

Tomorrow. _Tomorrow_ I would make the calls _,_ I promised myself as I pushed up from the bench, my mind and body feeling a bit lighter than earlier. This was the best decision I could make for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? Comments?
> 
> Leave them below! <3


	3. Blood Heat Over Tension Pt. 1&2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this out! Had a bit of writers block and a busy month.
> 
> This chapter will be both from Clarke and Lexa's POV, set one month after seeing one another at Grounders. I spent countless hours editing and rewriting, deleting, rewriting again, deleting again.... etc.... I hope that you enjoy!
> 
> Also decided to share what music I listened to for muse while writing a chapter; SOUTH - Galimatias, The Bedroom Tour Playlist - Niykee Keaton, CARRY YOUR THRONE - Jon Bellion, QUICK MUSICAL DOODLES - Two Feet
> 
>  
> 
> Ps, South by Galimatias is some fucking (excuse my French there) BABY MAKIN' MUSIC. Gave me chills.
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Reading! <3

5 MONTHS AGO...

 

 

 

 

 

(CLARKE)

 

Worrying the invitation back and forth between fingers, the events of the Monday last month filled every minute of thought; forever branded to memory. It was the morning that was both the least expected yet most… Looked forward too? A strange feeling of both relief and searing anger. An odd Catch 22, uncovering feelings that hurt had buried deep. Catching a red bottom lip gently between teeth, nervous chewing tried to extinguish the unmistakably familiar guilt that had broken free from its cage, there to remind me of my secrets. Today was Friday and for the last month I had effectively avoided confronting the sensations that saturated my body, or rather…. effectively avoided confronting the _woman_ that was overloading every corner of my existence. Focusing on the red envelope as it twisted,  it was impossible not to think back to the last time this particular color had been the object of both my desires and thundering anger; with an elegant black dress draping at all the right parts and hugging all the right curves, crimson painted lips ghosting against mine, tongue massaging my own taste into my mouth- I swore I could still taste her whiskey on my lips. It was wrong, all so fucking wrong and both love and loathing swallowed a jittering heart… Perhaps Echo could just relay to Lincoln that we were unable to secure an additional invitation? A heavy sigh breezed out, knowing he would simply ask that his be given to Lexa instead, and he would stay home and ask how it had went later- that is just the type of man that he was.

 

Love fell victim to anger momentarily as a pang of cold hit my chest at how different him and Lexa seemed from one another, how he was always the teddy bear of the room, always constantly taking care of everyone else without a thought, while Lexa… Calculated, emotionally detached even, always considering every situation and how it may or may not benefit herself. This of course was more than likely bias and exaggerated, but the weekend that she left when my visit to her condominium ended with a saddened look from the concierge downstairs? It was damn convincing. The sound of the blood rushing to my ears was still just as loud then as it was now _“Miss Woods left this weekend, I am sorry Ma’am”_. That afternoon absolutely broke me- the hurt, the resentment, the guilt of words left unsaid, the feeling of doubt in having meant more to one another. Fingers had skimmed past her name for weeks, daring the phone call though not ever crossing that invisible line. The ache of wanting so badly to hear that electric laugh and gentle voice whispering sweet, sensual nothings in the middle of the night, the longing for her touch… Any chance of sleep just a wish in the distance, for as long as the phone call never happened. What was there to say? All that could be, had been said, had it not? She had made that decision when she left without a word. For what purpose was there to have a conversation?

 

Stubbornness had surely won; on both ends.

 

Lexa had been the green eyed, bad idea craved from the very beginning. From the second that she handed me my coffee that day in the café, the first time I had ever seen her, I had known. Every sense flooded, and even through dark Ray Bans her snare sunk in deep.

 

I had simply sat with a blank notebook in front of me until my cup was cold and empty- a term paper on the use of art as a form of healing was due the following morning, however my attention could not help but keep drifting back to the woman behind the counter. Her allure had shadowed anything and everything. A shade of Jade that I never knew I liked, had consumed my mind and body. I think I had known, even then, when featherlight feet had followed the most beautifully sad symphony down the hall of the music building, silently slipping past the heavy door and leaning against the wall to watch the brunette stranger sway to the story that flowed from her fingertips. I think I had known the moment that I watched her shift from straight backed, reserved musician to loosened laughs and life stories after a bottle of wine. I had known when the carefree drunk on wine had devoured me with dark and heavy-lidded eyes. I was willing prey to a charming predator. I had known the first time our lips met, or the night where a mix of dry wine and heated passion met one another in a crashing moment- the first time claim had been laid on my body,  on the balcony of her condo after a night out as her fingers coaxed moan after moan, hips rolling and a strong leg trapping her as close as possible wanting every inch of her inside me, her name dripping sultry and powerful from my lips.

 

The greatest bad idea ever indulged, and ultimately, loved.

 

 _Love_ … In love?

 

Could you still be in love even years after a horrible fallout? A thick sigh escaped as the envelope dropped quietly to wood,  gaze locked on what could either be the greatest or worst decision.

 

Contemplation exhausting awareness, the audience that had entered went unnoticed, “Fun fact, you are indeed human Clarke and cannot set things on fire simply by staring at them” Lincoln’s low rumble startling with a jump, the deadliest glare mustered shot him, a hand resting on a heaving chest. He held my gaze with his award-winning, silly grin. Weak resolve lasted all of ten seconds before a soft laugh escaped. Lincoln truly did not have the greatest timing in the world, or did, depending on how you viewed the circumstances “what time is it? Are you closed already?” questioning with a quick glance to the clock above the door, taken aback by how late it truly was “Just for a few hours now…” he laughed once more, stepping in and closing the door behind him, leaning against it as he crossed his arms and stared me down quietly. Shifting in my seat, normally I would ask what he would like to talk about, but it had become rapidly obvious that he wasn’t the one in the hot seat this time around ”Sooo...” clearing my throat and swallowing dryly ”I uhm... I secured the invitation that you asked for, if you would like to take it… The dress code information is inside” picking up the envelope and holding it out in his direction with a soft smile.

 

Watching his eyes narrow at the invitation then move back at me, it should have been clear from the beginning that getting off the hook so easily wouldn’t happen ”Octavia told me Clarke- would you like to talk about it?” words spoken in a gentle hum, eyes never leaving me as the invitation was set back on my desk, teeth beginning to chew on my cheek in deep thought. So, he _knew_. A certain talk with a certain someone would certainly happen over this… With a sigh, eyes trailed back to him as he waited patiently for an answer, ever the patient and caring friend… How did he do it? Though no matter how much my heart wanted to, the words just wouldn’t budge ”There’s nothing to talk about Lincoln. I am not sure what Octavia did or did not tell you, but the past is the past” wheels began turning as he mulled over my answer, deciding if it was satisfactory enough for him- maybe him and Lexa weren’t so different after all, having seen her with that same mulling regard “Maybe nothing to talk about between you and I, but I think it’s clear that you and Lexa could find a few things to tal-“ should of known better than to hope it could be let it go, simply because life can be fucking unfair like that “Lexa and I have nothing to discuss, Lincoln. We were friends and then we were not… I really don’t want to talk about this, can we please talk about something else?” words sharply cutting him off as eyes pleaded to let it go for now, mind mentally unable to handle the emotional rollercoaster that the conversation would surely uncover.

 

Pursing chapped lips, he offered a soft nod as he walked to the desk and picked up the invitation. Turning the envelope through his fingers, there was a brief pause before holding it out “We don’t have to talk about it, but I think you should be the one to give this to her” offering a tender smile, as though there was a secret he was willing to share but forcing me to uncover for myself “I don’t even know where she lives Lincoln” a lie retorting in exasperation, I _definitely_ had found her address after realization finally settled and knew any attempts to dodge the situation were shaky at best “I’ll text it to you” softly pushing the invitation forward with reassurance.

 

Sitting quietly, a heavy glare locked on the envelope, never despising red more than right now. Flicking up, it was clear that this had been a lost game of tug-o-war before the man had even walked into my office. This battle had played out and my loss decided before he had even left the café.

 

A sweaty palm carefully reached out and took the paper “I would wear a jacket, it will more than likely be a little cold on the coast” shoving a hand into his pocket and turning to leave, stopping at the door momentarily “and Clarke?” stiff attention shifted cautiously with a tilt of my head in silent question “Gay, straight, bisexual, purple fucking alien- we all love you just the same. You are Clarke, and you are a wonderful friend to us all… We all just want to see you happy, that’s what is most important” caught off guard  by the admittance, words struggled to say something before he left with a click of the door and body sat in shock, not a fool to the words he left out; _you deserve better than Finn_.

 

To have someone so openly speak about sexuality as though it was truly that simple had thoughts reeling at a record pace. Gay? As in Lesbian? The consideration that my friends would ever notice had not once been a thought. Was it that obvious? Panic began settling tight inside as thoughts on if my mother had noticed as well wandered through… and if she had, what did she think? She certainly had not said anything if she had… Blinking and shaking blonde locks in the slightest, warm streams painting my face brought awareness back to the present, as a small and wet laugh escaped. Reaching up to wipe away the anxiety that was pouring, coming to terms with my sexuality had happened years ago, but to have someone else acknowledge and accept me for who I was without wanting to change anything? It was overwhelming in the least.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, it leisurely deflated my chest of the tight twine of anxiety and replaced it with a blanket of relaxation. Checking the time above the door- she would still be awake. Did she still drink the same Macallan Sherry Oak whiskey, until midnight? Just the thought had my tongue brushing against my lips involuntarily. Perhaps it was called a thirty-year whiskey for a reason? Had she lost as much sleep since our encounter as I had? Or if there was still the wild passion and primal protectiveness holding residence behind her dark pines? All musings that had pale legs shifting uncomfortably in my chair, unable to ever forget the way that she looked at me as though I held the entire world and that she would hurt anyone who dared to say different. My phone pinging, eyes travelled over and read the text from Lincoln- true to his word as always.

 

Bodega Bay huh? A bit of a drive but not too long. Peering at my reflection in the computer monitor, fingers ran under eyes and then up through hair to tease it a bit until satisfied. A nervous energy grew as I pondered if I looked good enough to be knocking on someone’s door at ten in the evening. Placing the envelope carefully in my purse before slinging it over my shoulder, heels carried me from the building to the parking garage. With every step to cement, each echoing clicks had me wishing more than anything that the parking garage was busier and that the early rush hour would delay the drive to give room to prepare for walking into the storm.

 

Slipping onto leather and setting the purse on the passenger seat, the engine of my most prized jeep roared to life with its smooth rumble quieting the imbalance inside as the navigation started. This night would be far more than both of us could have ever expected, the feeling was unmoving and there was approximately twenty minutes too wrangle in wild tension.

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------

(LEXA)

 

It had been one month since the ever-familiar cerulean wave had crashed shores once more and left nothing but messy thoughts and nerves in the wake.

 

It had been one month since the anomaly that was Clarke Griffin, had once more consumed my existence and shaken my core in what, fear? Excitement? Anticipation? All the above?

 

I was not particularly sure but had known this feeling in the past and it was jarring to know that even three years after the fact, one look could feel like everything I thought I knew was now up in arms and nothing was as it seemed. The recognition had been in her too, not fully right then, but the inevitable pull that had always been between us was there and tugging as strong as ever. I knew her. Even after all this time, I knew that she would have pieced it together by the time that she had gotten home- words and looks, small gestures shared between just us… Memories and recollections of our past would no doubt suffocate her, just as I. Three years can change a person, but reality would forever be naturally, and inescapably, tuned to everything that was _Clarke_.

 

Leaning forward on the balcony, focus landed on the horizon, watching as a light breeze carefully touched the surface of the bay, rippling its moonlit surface, a gentle kiss in the comfort of night for a secret lover. How ironic the simile… Head tilting to the side slightly, a soft and familiar melody of ivory keys in the background had confusion furrowing brows as the notes drifted outside. I did not remember this song being on the album I had playing in the background, and it sounded… Different? My mother had recorded several renditions of many Ludovico Einaudi pieces, and this was not one of them. Some of the notes were off, higher, or lower than written. The work of a clearly rusty amateur and certainly not anything like the near deadly precision that the late Woods executed. It was a song of someone new and playing without sheet music, from poor memory? Someone who was not a musician at all, “ _someone who-_ “ whispering quietly to myself, perking up at a specific note played wrong that reached deep in my chest, the nostalgia squeezing lungs of all available air as my heartrate picked up.

 

Lifting the heavy crystal to my lips and taking a long and slow sip of the strong whiskey, a silent hum vibrated my chest as the comfortable smoke of the thirty-year Sherry Oak gave a reviving rush back to lungs and a smooth burn slipped down my throat, flushing cheeks a subtle red.

 

One month and she was here… Why?

 

Glancing at my near empty glass, I lifted and tipped it back, finishing the remainder of the Macallan with a swift swallow, offering the bay one last sweeping look before turning and walking through the glass slider. Closing the slider delicately behind me, goosebumps raised skin as body adjusted from the chill of outside- or was it simply the act of now being in the presence of the woman who had haunted every day since we met? I could not be sure. Drawing a deep breath in attempt to calm a faltering heartbeat, it was possibly the worst idea I had-had yet as the familiar perfume filled lungs; a mix of vanilla notes and lavender, at once ensnaring all logic. Studying the blonde, I was stuck between wondering if having her here in front of me was the effects of the whiskey, a ghost of a memory, or if she was truly here.

 

Bare feet padded forward warily and circled the wooden bench before setting the glass above the keys and sliding beside her, just like old times.

 

Chancing a glance to the right, the rigid posture and jaw strongly clenched were hard to miss as regret began building within. Breathes were more rapid than needed for sitting with eyes focused intently, and solely, on the keys... Was this what my very presence did to her? A pang of guilt layered over the regret, knocking my heart loudly and constricting a burning throat, the weight of the consequences of my absence beginning to settle in. Memories of that last day flooded conscience, perhaps this was indeed karmas retribution on past mistakes? The outcome of no one’s doing but my own, a living reminder of what past actions had reduced the relationship to.

 

It was hard not to wonder if there was any chance of healing the deep-rooted damage. There was already the ache of hunger pulsing, body eager for her touch as the heated pull tugged from every direction, just as strong as it was from the moment we met.

 

Swallowing down the lump that had replaced words, hands raised to rest fingers lightly atop the smooth ivory and ears tuned to the treble notes; _beat... one, two, three, four... beat._.. finding rhythm with the count. Fingers started to dance across the bass notes in duet, nodding along gently with the unison as we found one another- just as we always inevitably would, so it would seem. Even after all this time, finding her unique beat came naturally as though in second nature, like a moth drawn to a flame, a racing heart begging for... No, that was not the right feeling... A racing heart was _chasing_ the anticipation of what could come after every false sense of comfort that this moment offered. Sitting together like this was a feeling of finding the piece that was not known to be missing as hands poured every emotion into our duet, playing willingly out of tune with the stuttering notes until the very last draw.

 

The final note tapering off from the previous in an ungraceful staccato, it seemed to be the most perfect reflection of the raging, imperfect electric energy that filled the space; broken and maybe a little clumsy, yet somehow seemed to work and always somehow beautiful... Tired hands dropped to black denim slowly and long fingers curled in with short nails digging a sharp pain, distracting from the fog of the blondes intoxication. Clarke was real and very much sat beside me. The buzz of the liquor was beginning to feel a little too strong, and her perfume was the driving force, by far stronger than any whiskey around and somewhere between the fight of heart versus mind, realization dawned with an offered clarity- I was still so very much addicted to everything that is, and would ever be, _Clarke Griffin_.

 

Time stretched the space, mind desperately seeking something, _anything_ that could alleviate the deafening silence. There was nothing that would chance the climb out. So much curiosity running rampant, so many questions that wanted so fiercely to find a voice, and so many things that hands and body itched to feel, to _taste_... Yet nothing could quite manifest into something more than a fleeting wish. One month ago, in that cafe, the courage inside was soaring and now that there was finally a moment alone? The shadow of doubt was stronger than any courage inside, and the feeling was foreign. Everything felt misplaced in some way, like this ripple of extended silence in time should not exist, as though there should be more of anything- yelling, anger, excuses... all the above. It seemed a testament to where the relationship now stood, on the cusp, and it would be wrong to even dare to interrupt.

 

A knowing shiver ran through my body, resolving to shift from the keys to meet the eyes that I knew had settled on me, waiting. The hairs of my neck raised under the weight of the icy stare, like they did every time she was near, a distant and invited feeling. Though under the heavy lock of blue, pain unabashedly on display, the feeling became one that had my chest constricting. She was forcing me to see the damage as green eyes tried to convey how I felt in return, fearing that a shaky voice may fail words.

 

It was obvious though, through the damage, that the shared longing was still simmering beneath with hot embers taunting unadulterated desires. Possibly… There was a chance? It was in her now just as it was before, the game of a daring push and pull that was played after every prolonged goodbye- the words forming in throats that couldn’t quite make it to the real world, staying as ghosts of thoughts that never managed to surface into anything other than ‘ _I’ll see you later’s_ ’ and ‘ _two bottles of wine, same time next week?_ ’. Sea and forest always collided in a sustained instant, bodies unbearably taut before parting ways. Things ended the same every time, with eyes speaking _I’m sorry_ ’s louder than resounding heartbeats’ dare say _I’m in love with you._ These are the memories that refused to go unnoticed; all of them branded to my subconscious for infinity and there was a strange comfort in knowing they would be to hers too, haunting us both.

 

“You always were the better musician between us. I think maybe I just do not have an ear for the notes” the broken laugh tugging at heartstrings as she glanced away briefly before arcing back, a tender smile not meeting sad, grey casted blues “Clarke...” her name feeling foreign, the ‘K’ clicking in that way she said her body hungered to hear. Was it wrong to take advantage of the moment? Probably. The act was selfish and worth the brief moment that breath hitched in that craving remembered so well “you can’t do that Lexa... you don’t get to say my name like that” something snapped inside as her voice cracked towards the end and hurt brimmed eyes in a soft gloss. Nails dug deeper into palms as the urge to reach out and console grew, though fearing rejection if the delicate distance strung between us closed. Guilt washed over once more, fighting with selfish thoughts of the blonde that had my mouth watering. Limbo had its hold- the selfish parts wanted nothing more than to pull her in for a heated night of hungry, hot, lustful fucking, to make up for it all while the other yearned to comfort, to listen, and apologize profusely for being such a damned idiot. For years wandering curiosity practiced what to say if paths ever happened to cross like this- alone. Yet with tongue tied and a tight chest, I was... _absolutely fucking frightened_? Her presence had shaken all sense.

 

Maybe it was the whiskey, but even I knew that was not true.

 

Eyes flit across one another’s features, ‘ _I’m sorry’_ met with ‘ _how could you’_. She was right in a sense, but the decision had been a matter of separating feelings from duty and it was not one that I had executed easily. The need for understanding was paramount, and far more essential than feeding selfish wants “Clarke, I...” pausing, grasping for a way to continue, to not lose the undeserving moment that was granted “I’m sorry. I...” another break as a whisper of a sigh blew, lips pursing with a locked jaw, searching for a way to explain amongst messy thoughts “it was not easy... I made a decision with my head and not my heart and I just... please try to understand” tapering off softly, hopelessly begging for understanding... A poor excuse, but it was all that I had to offer her. Stillness answered with a nervous air that suffocated the room, grey overcast parting for storming blues, piercing through walls as though deciding if the answer would be enough.

 

We sat like that for what felt like hours before her eyes finally stopped searching mine, something clicking behind them “you know I came back that weekend, to your condo” a low rasp that had brows knitting in confusion, breaking to focus on the polished grand- my condominium? But why was she at my condominium? What could that have to do with- “the concierge, on the main floor, Lexa. He told me you had left the previous day. I had come back to apologize for everything, but you had left, without a goodbye... and I found out from the concierge” gentle words wrapped in distress speaking over my confusion as the silent questions were answered. Regret evolved into an iron hold, attention snapping back over at a loss for words as the openness she offered pulled the rug from under me. I may be emotionally naïve, but she was speaking to me in my own terms and this share came with a price, the implication being that I must as well, and the intention? To make me hurt, to make me feel, and it _worked_.

 

Opening my mouth to speak just to close it again, body shifted slightly on the bench, unable to find a worthy response- the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability settling in the wade through unfamiliar grounds had me speechless, emotions not ever quite a strong suit.

 

“I tried to stay away, you know- from you” A laugh erupting from a bobbing throat as her head shook slightly, exasperation clear. Unsure how to respond, if at all, this was not how our first moment alone together had been imagined. Something had to give and quickly before the rare allowance was gone “you never were good at that, were you?” A gentle titter escaping while an internal cringe took hold. Really? _REALLY?_ That is all I could come up with? But she had not left yet and by the curious tilt of her head... Maybe it had been just the perfect save, watching intently as her lips resisted the sliver of a smirk that was begging to show itself “I suppose I am drawn to bad ideas...” was it a stab at my ego? Was she joking or being serious? A brow quirked smoothly in contemplation, rolling the answer back and forth “and here I thought you always had the better ones between us” signature lopsided grin tugging full lips up, a flirtatious tone lacing soft words in selfish defiance. Her cheeks flared a gentle pink and a sense of accomplishment and pride could not help from filling my chest, following her motions like a lifeline as a bottom lip pulled sensually between teeth, one that mine wished to be pulling instead.

 

A blistering heat shot straight to the apex of my thighs, strong legs pushing together in a weak attempt to take the edge off, to satisfy the demand for any kind of pressure. Trailing back up as her bottom lip released, there was no shame in being caught blatantly staring as blues shifted from a storm to the darkest parts of an ocean, diluted with want. Like a siren singing to a sailor, the urge to drown in their depths was an unbreakable and tight rope. It balanced on a peak of being too much- wanting the feeling of chasing air to choke already starved lungs as fingers and mouth liberated my body with a precision only she knew.

 

Hands moved stiffly to grip the edge of the bench, using every ounce of strength remaining, knuckles turning white with a gradually faltering restraint. This was not my place- _she was in control here_ , a mantra repeated over and over as the fixed focus dared me to bend, to look away. I would not. We sat like that for what felt like hours, locked in a contest of wills, the bench beginning to become uncomfortable but worth every minute.

 

“ _Clarke_ ” whispering past lips in a single breath, dripping low and sultry, her jaw flexing in response. It was a dirty play and it was no secret, and none of this should be happening. There was so much more that we needed to talk about... but somewhere midway of whiskey and vanilla lavender perfume, my body was absolutely _smoldering_ and thoughts of talking became thoughts of things that could wait.

 

This quiet dance we were doing was just pleading to break apart to something unreserved and downright fucking _filthy_ , and it was her move.

 

 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------

(CLARKE)

 

The excruciatingly tense coil that was winding and building inside with every thick moment that passed between us, had my body rigid with an appetite that only Lexa could both stimulate and satiate. It was odd, this comparison my brain was making between this evening and the first time we had sat beside one another just as we were; in front of a grand piano with looks passing between ocean and forest that had my heart beating so rapidly I swore I could hear it. Hearing my name said once was already too much, but hearing it said a second time in that way only she could had hit me at my core turning and flipping my world inside out. Tension’s iron clutch was becoming unbearable, the cracks in my resolve already showing. Blind, self-indulgent desire shadowed rational thought as it dared me to fall victim to the fantasies that had consumed me since the day at the café. Endless nights spent touching myself to memories of the brunette, the ways that her hands used to work my body and her mouth... god her fucking mouth, always having my hips rolling in a profound need for more. Constantly more- always wanting, always needing _more_ , since day one.

 

Quickly wavering resistance was a welcome loss under the trap of greens rimming black. She was daring me and winning, my mouth watering with just the memory of how her whiskey tasted whenever our tongues met in a battle for dominance, passionate and messy and fucking _perfect_. The familiar smoke of the Sherry Oak had expanded my lungs the moment she had sat beside me, the oxygen having turned ashes back to embers low in my stomach, “ _Lexa_ ” the name choking out on a shaky thread of want, tongue flicking to wet a bottom lip.

 

These feelings should not be surfacing, but they were, and it was foolish to think that they could be dismissed- the ruined lace between my legs would not allow it. Ruined for her. _Her_. God, even now, sitting like this in a room full of unspoken resentment... all distant thoughts as lust desperate for attention shrouded reason. If she took me I would let her... But she would not, this was clear. Control was being handed over on one knee of resignation, so unlike anything ever experienced before. My body felt high on the offer of power. Words to explain would forever fail me, because this was not our normal dynamic; she controlled, and I had to fight for my share of the dominance. Eager body always fell pliant to my caresses and whispered words, but this was new. Lexa was sitting beside me handing me this moment, it was mine, and the decision remained suspended in time, stuck between what was right and what was wrong, so very _very_ fucking wrong… but _I had always loved bad ideas_.

 

It happened, like a sudden snap of a tight line though somehow slow in transition. Lexa was a fierce gravitational pull like nothing ever met, fingers reaching tentatively through thick curls and firmly gripping, pulling forward, eager mouths meeting halfway in the most delicious way. Her lips still tasted like honey, and when directions switched with her velvet tongue swiping across my bottom lip, access was readily granted with a deep, guttural moan rushing up into our passion. Tongues glided together slowly, mapping each other to a fresh memory, the taste of whiskey shaking loose a quiver of pleasure that roaming hands shaped like wet clay into a burning want to be drunk.

 

I was supposed to hate her, resent all that this woman was, but body betrayed me as another rush of hunger drenched my cunt. Need was growing by the second, damn near painful at the lack of pressure where body needed most, warm flicks distracting all coherency. A hand drifted just under my shirt and fingers squeezed with a gentle pull forward, nudging, tempting. Hesitation was brief, a lost effort and a shift, our tempo flowing flawlessly as I swung a leg and straddled her with hips rolling once in a long, slow stroke, palms quickly finding purchase against my ass with soft sighs escaping past dancing lips at the contact.

 

Everything Lexa- her smell, her sounds, her mouth, and hands, it was all drowning me in guilt and uncontrollable pleasure. _She was my guilty pleasure._.. and no amount guilt in the world would ever be enough to invalidate every swipe of her tongue and the appetite that followed. Raw and rough greed hammered- I would not _ever_ feel guilty for the time shared with the intangible force that was Alexandria Woods.

 

Arching forward in the slightest I pushed harder into our kiss, seeking something more with a plump bottom lip catching between teeth, drawing a low hum from Lexa’s throat as hands squeezed my ass firmly in response and pulled my hips tight against her, the new pressure hitting my clit just right “ _Lexaaa_ ” voice uneven with a shuddering gasp sounding. Resting our foreheads against one another, free hand sitting lightly on her shoulder for stability as the other dug nails into the back of her neck, every fiber of my existence stretched in resistance against wantonly grinding my hips in search of release.

 

Shallow, labored breaths expanded lungs and brushed chests as primitive blues met charred pines with a sharp hitch, paralyzed under the intensity “is this what you want, _Clarke_?” lips brushing with every word and one last squeeze to my ass before smoothing to hips, the firm hold laced with dirty intention, pulling and meeting in a rolling cant “oh god” a filthy moan ripping with a staggering wave of gratification, body pulling rigid and head dropping to bury into hair while nails dug in roughly, thighs tightening in a sudden bid to ground my senses.

 

I needed her everywhere in every way possible, needed more, fuck did I need more.

 

“I asked you a question, are you not going to answer?” the unmistakable tone of command bringing me back to the last time she had so greedily chased my pleasure ringing in sighs and guttural moans begging for more... _"FUCK!" ecstasy echoing against the bedroom walls, my fresh manicure digging into muscles flexing above, clawing, wildly seeking an anchor as lips and teeth chased the pulse just under my ear, marking and claiming. Breaths tangled in a slow, deep lust, her fingers curling to brush against my front wall just right, throwing my head back into the sheets, body and breath hitching as my body pushed harder against her with an arched back and rolling hips encouraging her deeper. Everything felt overwhelming, a hand trailing to grip brown curls hard at her neck while the other dug deep into Egyptian Cotton, her finger tips brushing shallower and shallower, teasing “Lexa… please” shamelessly begging in submission, “Please what?” the warm velvet of her tongue tracing slowly to my chest, her lips wrapping around a pert rosy bud, gentle flicks coaxing earthy groans that had my mind drawing a blank “I asked you a question, are you not going to answer?” a whine pulling as teeth grazed in a gentle motion, tugging up with a hum._

 

_I did not know how much more torture I could stand, body already feeling as though it would erupt with a destructive wave of heat, scorching anything in its path, “please make me cum… please” breathless in the raw suggestion, not caring how it sounded, fingertips leaving me feeling empty, replacing the hollow feeling with a rush of pleasure as they circled a swollen clit “god, Lexa! Please!” mouth dropping in a cry of filthy satisfaction, begging loudly as thighs spread wide in offering “is this what you want, Clarke?” words low and provocative, lips brushing as her tongue swept lightly against my coconut chapstick, pulling a swollen and bruised bottom lip between teeth as two fingers thrust forward, burying to the knuckle, the motion repeating in slow, long strokes, twisting and curving in all the right places._

 

 _My desire was built to the hilt, the calm before the storm, daring me to snap and overflow against her- and I did. It happened suddenly, undulating motions chasing the high as lips crashed in a crushing wave of passionate indulgence, skillful hands working my body through the fall, extending it for as long as I could stand with a strong arm pushing beneath to support my lower back “just like that baby, keep cumming for me” passion twisting with sultry words, bright jade’s catching my blues in reverence as my body obeyed her command- just as it would for hours…_ the frantic chase of relief was replaced with a cooling wash of reality…

 

What was I doing? I was supposed to be angry with the brunette, in fact, I had dreamed of the day that we could come face to face once more just to tell her how I felt. But, like a needy whore looking for a good lay, my position was telling a story otherwise, sat uncomfortably wet and wanting in her lap. She must have noticed the shift as eyes now rung bright with worry “is everything okay?” deep concern in the question as she searched for an answer. Glancing away, I could not handle the heat of her gaze so easily pulling open doors that she should no longer have a key to. I had to get out, I had to leave, I should not be here doing this. Fuck, _what about Finn?_. The care I had for the man was different from the deep love that he had for me, but I did still care about how he felt and the things that would hurt him “I….”  pausing with mouth opening and closing, articulation not surfacing so easily “what is it?” pursing bruised lips, I swung my gaze back and tried to speak through looks rather than words.

 

Pain cut my heart at the look she returned, concern and desire twisting into the stoic Lexa I had seen so many times in the past. The mask was her protection and a tight chest had me feeling a way that I shouldn’t, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I don’t know what I am doing here”  unsure words as I stood swiftly and stepped back adjusting blouse and slacks, a shaking hand brushing through messy hair. I avoided her gaze as I grabbed my bag from the floor in one quick motion, gently tossing the invitation down on the bench “all the information for the gallery and what you need to wear is in there. Don’t feel obligated to show, I did this as a promise to Lincoln” speaking quickly, affording Lexa no chance to respond as heels hit the wood floors in fast, echoing steps, rushing to escape the towering anxiety. The distance from the slam of the front door to the jeep seemed impossibly far, lungs starving for air by the time I slipped into the driver’s seat- I had not run a marathon but fate be damned, a couple of hours in the presence of the captivating force that was Lexa, had my heart racing and body starved of oxygen.

 

Hastily pulling from her drive, wheels came to a stop down the road, hands throwing the gear into park with lungs drawing in deep breaths, urgently chasing the calm of a stuttering heartbeat and forehead dropping to rest on the steering wheel in disbelief. Two fucking hours, _two hours_. That is all it had taken for her to completely unravel my very, carefully groomed, existence and composure.

 

Sitting back and glancing out at the water, something deep and heavy settled in my chest- I had a feeling this was just the beginning, addictive lips the driving force of my profound and chaotic undoing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? Comments?
> 
>  
> 
> Leave them below!


	4. Must Have Lost My Mind pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pheeeewwww! Hello, hello! I hope everyone is enjoying their autumn- the leaves are almost all changed here and it’s absolutely beautiful. The last month and a half has been so incredibly busy; the wife is in the middle of all sorts of training so is in and out of state every other week, tons of family has been visiting, and I am the best (wo)man in my long time best friend’s wedding! What is sleep?
> 
> Anyways, I managed to work on this every once in awhile and finally finished it enough to, in the very least, post something for you all. I will more than likely return and truly edit this, but for now this is an unedited chapter and I hope its enjoyed! 
> 
> I owed you all some Clexa action and hope I delivered on it in this chapter, a part 1 of 2. 
> 
> Songs that wrote this chapter are HEAVEN IN HIDING - Halsey, GREEN EYES - Elias, SEDUCTIVE - Sine, EVERGREEN - Broods
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is from Clarke’s POV. 
> 
> Happy reading :)

4 MONTHS AGO...

 

 

 

 

 

_‘Slow taps entered the bathroom, the soft click and slide of the lock following shortly after. It was no secret who had followed, and even less a secret that she had been very blatantly avoiding any extended interaction for the last month- leaving the café just before or just after my shifts, exchanges kept to the bare minimum of ‘have a good day’ ‘hello’ ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’, just so happened to be conveniently busy **every** time Octavia and Lincoln invited her over and I showed up or was there._

_It was not hard to understand the actions, truly, if anything it should have been expected by now. The thought of texting had crossed many times, if even just to ask how her day was going. However, words remained stuck at the tips of hovering fingers._

_So... Imagine the multitude of emotions tangling with surprise when my phone vibrated with her name, and it was a bit selfish, but a sense of accomplishment and pride swelled at the realization that she still had my number. The events that had followed that evening were the start of something, though what that something was? Still on the table for debate._

_In hindsight, the inevitability of yesterday should have not ever been brushed aside as a fools wish. We always found a way back to one another._

_Fear saturated the idea that there was not ever a chance of forgetting the way my name sounded as it fell from those lips. There would not be enough of in this lifetime, or any other. Then there was the memory of  a symphony of moaning and whimpering, grinding her need against me. Arousal had hung thick in the air, unmistakable want clear with the heat between thighs pressed tightly against my lower half._

_That night, sat on a wooden bench, tongues and hands brushing so smoothly- it felt like a dream some days. Perhaps… it had been? That would have been convincing enough if the next morning had not been sober with a fading scent of vanilla and lavender, unraveling an already wavering existence- second only to the taste of coconut chap stick mixed with whiskey on my lips._

_That stupid chap stick._

_Turning off the water, fingers flicked gently into the sink as skin raised at the bristling cold tsunami that had swallowed the room. The silence that stretched was maddening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathes mixing in a way that was too reminiscent of her curves pinning and stripping me to a complete, needy mess in my own home- a favor greedily returned in full not even two full days ago._

_Damp hands tugged at rolled up sleeves as a slow breath expanded and then deflated softly in a low sigh, fingers smoothing sheer white cotton, “Clarke” clipping matter-of-factly as eyes met in the mirror. Raging waves crashed with nature’s own fury in a violent push and pull, with muscles flexed tense. The temptation of wanting to bend and snap under the pressure coaxed lingering thoughts of a heavy door slamming and body still burning... Crimson lips pursing, a strong jaw commanded defiance. This fight was far from over._

_“Lexa” clipping back with just as much fervor, not once shifting away from our battle in the mirror._

_Hopes had been too wistful, losing reality in her taste and the memories they shook to life, convincing myself that things could, by some far away chance, find their way back to how they had been so long ago. Though the choice offered in my living room- it had been hers to deny or accept and she had accepted; thoughts of why had plagued the days since, ignited further by the shared passion in her office. The choice offered then had also been hers to deny or accept. Two for two._

_What did she want from me?_

_Sleep was an evasive treasure, and even when sleep did finally happen, dreams overflowed with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a body twisting with a dark desire for pleasure at the mercy of my own fingertips. Blues in the mirror gave away a small shift, curiosity and confusion blooming as a sculpted brow lifted in the slightest at the storm settling, the cold tsunami transitioning into a warm drizzle._

_As her guard let down slowly, mine only seemed to fortify, unsure of what game was being played.'_

 

 

 

“Clarke!” Nia called down the busy hallway, eyes rolling at the clicking steps as the woman shortly showed in the doorway. Nia had been my absolute worstnightmare as of late, thinking that perhaps she instigated the chaos around us for her own viewing pleasure. This upcoming gallery was going to be one of our largest of the year, our first to be exact, and it was pertinent that everything and every painting was perfect. Placement, lighting, time frame, dress code, music, drinks and hors d'oeuvres; all had somehow become an added responsibility after the last assistant folded and the ice queen insisted that I was the only one for the job... or rather jobs.

 

“Yes, Nia?” Overly sweet, gaze following her to the front of the desk, eyebrows knitting in the slightest at the lengthening silence, “is there something wrong?” Please do not say another assistant cracked “there is” of course there was, there always was, her hands settling at hips in judgement “The showroom just passed the pre-inspection this morning; the contractors are just finishing with the additional lighting you requested, I am not sure what could have happened within the hour” confusion beginning to color in curiosity, wondering what she could be referring to. Normally her “problems” were the exact opposite of a problem, though if the new demeanor was anything to go by... maybe there really was something.

 

Worry began growing as thoughts reeled at record speed, recalling every check and clear - The lighting and food, as well as showroom had been done personally, and Echo had secured the entertainment, wine, and various liquors from a local vineyard and distillery. What could have possib- “Do you mind say... _Enlightening_ me on why Mr. Azgeda, our caterer, backed out?” a pause to let the news hit... The showing was in just under two days... Panic began slowly settling tightly “I just spoke with Mr. Azgeda this morning and he confirmed for this Saturday..” trailing off as hard eyes bore through with an unparalleled storm, one I was hoping to avoid until after the hurricane had passed through this week, “Mr. Azgeda took another job” freezing in place as dumbfounded feelings flowed- Another job?

 

Anger spread, ears painting red and jaw working roughly- surely someone could remind Mr. Azgeda that he was bound by contract, “so we need a new caterer, today, Clarke. I want to see a signed contract, on my desk, by the end of today” was she completely out of her mind? The absurd request twisted features into disbelief “Nia, with all due respect, I have doubts that-that may happen” heavy glare watching as the older woman spun on a heel and made for the doorway, turning just before leaving “then you will find the room where you may find our new caterer” a sinister smirk pulling at aging corners in the pause “I would very, _very_ , strongly recommend you use all your resources. Because, if I do not have that contract on my desk by this evening than it might suggest you are no longer a good fit for your position... Ms. Griffin” the anger hummed and rushed through my veins, echoing heels tapping on hardwood the most pretentious sound imaginable.

 

A low growl forced through clenched teeth as a hand brushed curled strands aside anxiously- there was only one caterer I could think of this close to the showing and that was if she was available. Oh and getting a hold of her? Contact with the single person I had been avoiding for the past month. After our encounter in her living room three weeks ago, my actions couldn’t be trusted; any self control all but non-existent when in close proximity. Interaction had been desperately kept to a minimum.

 

Kissing Lexa had awoken something inside and the strength to face it was not quite there yet. No matter how many times reprimanding thoughts told me how much of a bad idea it had been to accept her offer that night... A body humming with want had other things in mind, finding any free moment to overcome reprimands to remind me how it responded to just the feeling of her lips and hands, leaving underwear soaked and a river free to flow- or better yet just the thought. These past three weeks had possibly been the most uncomfortable imaginable.

 

Glancing to the iPhone sitting beside the keyboard, wheels turned in every direction- Anya, Lexa’s cousin, was the only viable option that was remotely promising, the only option worth pursuing. Talking with Anya? Easy. Getting her number? Something that could potentially turn messy in a multitude of ways. Perhaps a good distance could simply be kept, right? Avoid being too close, keep conversation minimal and better yet, not an option other than the standard greeting. This could work, couldn’t it? Of course it could, we were adults, not a pair of hormonal college kids anymore.

 

It would be okay, a mantra repeated over and over.

 

Snatching up the phone, fingers deftly unlocked the screen and began a new message:

 

_Clarke: Hey Lexa, this is Clarke... just in case you didn’t have my number anymore. I have a huge favor to ask, if you wouldn’t mind?_

 

A grimace curled, it sounded awful but what do you say to someone when in our situation? Hitting send and setting the phone aside, a nervous energy charged high. Impatience was quickly building as the minutes passed at a snails pace, body nearly jumping from the leather chair at the ping that illuminated the phone screen:

 

_Alexandria: Not minding could be taken multiple ways, Clarke. I could easily not pay any mind to your text just as much as I could not mind replying :)_

 

If eyes could roll any further... leave it to Lexa to be completely insufferable with her stupid, over analyzation of everything, in that stupid way that was somehow stupid enough to dust a stupid pink across cheeks.

 

_Clarke: Okay... So can I ask a favor?_

_Alexandria: Well, sure. Most people capable of literacy are capable of asking “favors”. Are you asking if you are capable of asking a favor? Or if you are allowed?_

_Alexandria: This is very confusing._

 

A low and frustrated groan vibrated its way out. Why? WHY must she do this right now? Teeth pulling in a bottom lip to prevent the forming smile at how ridiculous she was being.

 

_Clarke: Seriously? Ugh, you’re being impossible._

_Alexandria: Is that a challenge? Because you should know by now that I do not lose... If memory serves me well, and it certainly does, I can recall only one time you claimed something impossible..._

_Alexandria: Need a reminder?_

 

Was she flirting? Thighs pushed together tightly under the black pencil skirt, mind and body betraying sense as thoughts of that night hit play- claims of another orgasm being impossible, acceptance of a challenge. Pupils blowing darkly as a thumb took residence against my sensitive bud and hips pushed against me slowly. She had guided my body through four more mind blowing falls from heaven, alternating from the purple cock strapped between her legs to a mouth that was more than eager to clean up the mess... And back again.

 

A thrum of energy raised hair as a greedy craving for her rolling hips and skillful fingers swallowed an already wavering conscience, drenching me in more than one way. This is not how this conversation was supposed to go, things needed to stay on topic. Forcing urges to the back of a now messy mind, thoughts desperately, and barely, focused on the reasons for our conversation in the first place. Barely.

 

 _Clarke: I need Anya’s number, or you give her mine? The gallery needs a new caterer, if she still caters... I am assuming she does._

 

Short, quick, sweet and to the point. Why couldn’t that of been the first message? Oh right, because just the thought of Lexa melted my very existence into a puddle of anxiety.

 

A wondering thought couldn’t help but ask if the roundabout way of asking was somehow purposely self inflicted? The whole subconscious punishing my conscience for fighting against everything very obviously wanted, pretending the desires didn’t exist sort of deal. It was nothing new that these past few weeks had been pure torture, wanting nothing more than to spend every moment of free time tangled with the brunette rather than forcing some sort of distance to remain between us. Hands had found residence and relief between naked thighs more times than ever lately.

 

_Alexandria: Well why didn’t you just say so? I will forward your number to her now!_

 

Also leave it to Lexa to be so stupidly, nonchalantly wonderful in that stupid way of hers.

 

_Clarke: Thank you, you may have just saved my job._

_Clarke: Oh and Lexa... I could make it up to you over a coffee? Things have not been the greatest between us for quite some time but... maybe we can sit down and talk?_

_Alexandria: Make it a glass of wine and dinner at my place and you have a deal? After the gallery? In celebration of your hard work paying off._

 

The sudden skip and flutter of a heartbeat didn’t go unnoticed, a feeling of giddiness settling as a blush tinted cheeks a deeper rosy. A night alone with Lexa? After the last time? Teeth chewed nervously on a bottom lip as the giddiness began swirling with anxiety and anticipation, wrong and right. She had always found some way to be so charming and supportive of my pursuing art, and to still be that way even after everything? It was hard to ignore the heat flushing head to toe.

 

Could I trust myself to chance that again?

 

_Clarke: But you haven’t even seen it yet!_

_Alexandria: I don’t need too. I know that you have given it nothing less than your all and that the results will be amazing._

 

Before thoughts could drag the clock on a response even longer, fingers had a mind of their own, heart having decided long before mind could catch up.

 

_Clarke: I would like that, Lexa._

 

Eyes couldn’t help but read back through the exchange- it had flowed so easily as we quickly fell back into familiarity, even if it felt a little awkward at points.

 

The last three texts kept replaying over and over again; painfully aware that my body most certainly couldn’t be trusted to be around her alone, but maybe there was in fact room for some type of reconciliation of friendship? I had been absolutely awful, blatantly avoiding interaction with the brunette, always running away before anything beyond a standard greeting could be said. The least that could be done was to entertain a dinner. Just a nice glass of wine or two, dinner, and some talking. The routine had happened many times before, just two best friends enjoying a nice night with one another.

 

We could do this, I could do this.

 

Glancing at the time, a soft smile curved at the text that came through-

 

_Unknown: I would be happy to cater the gallery. Details?_

 

We may have our ups and downs, but for everything right or wrong, she would forever remain someone both loyal and reliable. There was no doubt that she had earned dinner and a drink. Checking the time once more, fingers quickly typed and texted a detailed list to Anya before shifting to breeze across the keyboard, emailing Nia the update. A breath released anxious thoughts and made room for relief and a little triumph in having won Nia’s game- albeit with a certain brunette’s help.

 

An eyebrow quirked as another ping sounded the phone, eyes rolling with a sigh at the text displayed-

 

_Finn: Dinner tonight at your place?_

 

Since that night at Lexa’s, she hadn’t been the only person being dodged. Every excuse possible had been tossed out for why Finn shouldn’t come over, citing the gallery more often than not. Though maybe the luck with that had ran out.

 

_Finn: We could celebrate you finally getting a break from work soon if you know what I mean ;)_

 

A grimace pulled lips and eyes rolled in discomfort at the explicit, and predictable, insinuation. None of this was fair to him and things should have been ended before they had ever made it this far, only keeping the relationship going to maintain the facade for my mother. She liked Finn and as long as we were together, the fact that I was in love with a woman and not the man she wanted me to be with, well... it would remain a dirty secret. It was selfish and there were many moments it could have been ended, and should have been, but how do you break that news to someone who is so in to you? That was selfish too, avoiding seeing the inevitable look of heartbreak and anger on his face. It would be devastating knowing I was the reason for my friends distress... Friend.

 

Running a hand down features slowly, the realization that the time on the facade was on the very cusp of running out hit me. How was this fair? Even conscious thoughts couldn’t refer to him as more than a friend anymore.

 

 _Finn: Hello?_

 

A sigh escaped heavily at the third text pinging before nervous fingers responded.

 

_Clarke: Not tonight Finn, I need all my focus on the details until the gallery._

_Finn: Come on baby, it will be quick I promise. Remember how much it helped last time? ;)_

 

Lips pursed in aggravation with a sick feeling turning at his words- he was completely unaware that my body had shaken for her and not him. Just the thought of that morning had bile rising high once more in a threat.

 

_Clarke: No, Finn. Please don’t push this.. I really need to focus._

_Finn: No fun..._

_Finn: Dinner this weekend then, or maybe after?_

 

He just had to be relentless didn’t he? Guilt turning my insides as more lies spread across the keyboard.

 

_Clarke: I have plans with my mom._

_Clarke: Maybe Sunday breakfast?_

_Finn: No fun... Again._

_Finn: Sunday will work though I guess._

_Finn: Feels far away but I think my hands can manage to stay busy until then... if you know what I mean ;)_

 

_Finn: it’s better when they are yours though._

 

Seriously? Eyes rolling at his texts for the second time, unable to handle anymore.

 

_Clarke: Yeah, haha._

_Clarke: I hate to do this but I have to get back to work. I hope you have a good night and I will see you Sunday!_

_Finn: Ah, no fun again... But I get it, I love you._

 

Closing the conversation and locking the screen, hands tossed the phone carelessly aside before bringing fingers to rub at throbbing temples- ignoring his last text, not able to stomach another lie of I love you. Hands dropped to the desk in a soft thud before turning in the chair and standing to observe the view through the large panes.

 

Thoughts raced, wondering how much guilt someone could shoulder before they collapsed under the weight of it all? How many lies could be spoken? Before lies and guilt caught up and swept across in a wave of truth, uprooting everything in its path. How much. How many.

 

This feeling was familiar, focusing on a stoplight below switching green- everything inside screamed to give in and be bad, to embrace the bad idea, to immerse myself in its passion, to lose myself to her. God, her. It always came back to h- brows furrowed in confusion as two light knocks sounded at the heavy office door. What else could Nia want? A new caterer was secured and the details sent, end of game. A sigh huffed as two more raps sounded, slipping the mask in place to face the miserable presence of the insufferable woman once more, “Come in” sure to keep the words stern and flat, not giving her the courtesy of turning around, continuing to study the world below.

 

“Don’t tell me that you’ve finally been pushed to the edge” I couldn’t keep from jumping at the smooth and soothing voice that interrupted thoughts, far different than the one expected. The mask fell off and heart began racing, hair whipping with the force of a lightening speed turn. Shock crossed features with fumbling and failed resistance- eyes meeting and studying the woman who had prevailed every waking and sleeping existence. Flicking back and forth in silence, I searched for an answer to the unannounced visit, unnerved by the calm composure that held strong in tandem with something that could not quite be placed “Lexa..” the name feeling foreign on lips as it left thoughts for the first time in weeks, “What are you doing here?” words leaving gentler than intended.

 

She looked almost better than remembered from that evening- the green seemed brighter and skin a little darker, had she been spending a lot of time outside? Was that small and warm pull of full lips always so tantalizing? And had she always looked so easily irresistible in a simple pair of jeans and a university hoodie? Well, that last part should not be surprising since the first time we officially met she was wearing that exact one.

 

Shifting uncomfortably under the strong regard as mine dropped, it suddenly hit hard how long I had been staring, a nervous thrum spreading rapidly as feather steps tapped forward “Anya asked me to drop this off for her since she wouldn’t be able to make it in time. I was going to drop it off out front but figured a hand delivery would be more likely to ensure it made it your way, especially so late in the evening” a light laugh sounding, tugging at heart strings “I hope you don’t mind” shifting to look at the small stack she was holding out “the contract..” trailing off in admiration as a hand carefully reached out and accepted the papers, “I...” pausing, unsure how to react as a handful of emotions flooded at once. Raising to meet greens, a shy smile raised corners “thank you” voice small and settling on the most obvious, the smell that was so unmistakably Lexa choking off the chance for anything more.

 

A light rosy glow brushed cheeks- why was every interaction with her so hard? So incapacitating? I could not ever remember being so enthralled over the small things like a smile or her fucking voice, or had I?

 

Taking advantage of the weight in hands, I turned to set the contract on the desk, using the opportunity to momentarily break the thread between us, grasping for something to say, “Clarke” had she always said my name so sensually? The thought came and went, attention dragging back- it always came back to her and god why did she have to say her K’s in that way that stroked every repressed feeling to life? I was an anxious mess over the gallery, exhausted from the long hours, and so very, very sexually frustrated. Why did she have to be here right this moment? Reducing a carefully built composure into a puddle of needs and wants with one word- something no one else could ever achieve in this lifetime, or any other.

 

Did she feel the same?

 

“Yes Lexa?” Dripping like honey as it passed through lips warmly, slowly, suddenly painfully aware of the fabric between legs still soaked “I have been thinking about what you said when I saw you last” complexity shadowed beyond mascara at the remark, brows drawing down in the slightest in a silent question “about the invitation?” Confusion colored further, following movements as she quietly sat on the edge of the desk with a barely audible sigh “when you said to not feel obligated to show?” her brows raising in question.

 

Realization finally settled “oh.. yes. That..” stopping with a nervous laugh rising at the recollection, not knowing where this was being taken and certainly none the eager to find out “listen, Lexa.. I kno-“ “Clarke” the still composed calmness adding to nervous energy as a hand reached forward and touched an arm lightly, patiently asking for attention “I simply wanted to ask if you meant it. Because if you truly do not wish me to show, I won’t. I know our earlier conversation could assume I would, but I wanted to be sure it’s what you want” her voice briefly hesitating.

 

A gentle quirk tempted lips at her rambling- no matter how many times I had tried to convince myself otherwise, the woman truly was nothing short of extraordinary, always thinking of the needs and wants of others. Yes there was the cold and calculated side to it all but beneath that was a large beating heart, “Of course I would love nothing more than to spend my evening admiring the hard work you’ve put in to the showing, but I also respect your wishes and would not want to impose” hand falling to her lap, the delicate touch immediately missed.

 

Thoughts raced, chastising a stupidly overwhelmed brain for speaking in a panic, having rushed to put any amount of distance between us. _Noted; think through things before speaking_ , “I didn’t mean it Lexa, I was just...” a sigh blending with a shaky laugh “I would love it if you showed” didn’t we just talk about this? Thinking before speaking... _I would love it?_ Definitely true but certainly not a thought that was meant to vocalize, teeth swiftly capturing an untrustworthy tongue to avoid spilling anything more.

 

Eyes traveled between my own, that something that I couldn’t quite place passing once more. Maybe that’s not the answer she was looking for?But she had said she would love to... Maybe it had been heard all wrong? “Mm, so I was right then” humming lowly, pupils blowing to shadow blue in the slightest at the obvious tease “right about what?” Scoffing playfully with arms crossed and an eyebrow lifting, “hey hey now, it’s just that...” raising her hands in surrender, laughing gingerly with a quick pause and greens skimming away then back in contemplation, a decision flashing “I knew you wanted me to show” the challenge devilishly settled, unspoken but definitely not something unknown. It was taunting, tempting, daring indulgence.

 

“Oh? You were, and are, so sure of that how?” Refusing to back down, pushing back everything that warned to not play with this fire settling between us, but an answering spark in features spoke louder than warnings, “well, _Clarke_...” muscles tensed in a shiver at my name spilling from her lips so thick and sweet, gaze following the hand that reached to brush a loose hair behind my ear. The touch of her finger ran delicately down and along a taut jaw, draining my mouth dry just to send it south, before pulling back against dark denim far too soon “because I know you want me” said so simply and with such sureness that it was hard to believe things had ever stopped. This game felt too familiar, too real, was far too dangerous, and I was in far too deep to turn back.

 

The insinuation was bold. It was a second challenge pushing boundaries with intention “as generous as you are, Lexa... No I don’t want you. That was then and this is now” coolly playing with temptation, “So you’re telling me” gaze breaking our thread to roam slowly and deliberately down my body, taking in every inch before raising back with a viscous lust that hit my core, nipples flush and straining for her touch in an instant “that if I did this” voice gravelly with arousal, gracefully stepping forward, “you have no reaction?” fingers trailing without hurry up an arm of my blazer, “that if I did this” a darkened look trapping me in place, moving to brush against the curve of a collar bone and settle at the nape of my neck, “ _you aren’t undeniably soaked with anticipation?_ ”

 

A simple question that hung in what little space was left, the office suddenly feeling like that one summer in Cabo... Has it always been so hot in here?

 

Throat bobbing dryly, it was clear who had won as pines burned right through what little composure was left, following every motion. If there was one thing I could not ever deny Lexa, it was the fact that mind and body found her inexplicably attractive, a simple touch or look provoking the deepest, and even darkest, desires. There was not ever someone who could claim me so fully, “Well?” the attempt at finding a witty response flatlined at the request.

 

It was a short pause- grip tightening in blonde curls and mind short circuiting. Willingly following the shift as she slowly turned us to pin me against the desk in one swift motion, shaking hands gripping the edge with a sharp hitch. A wave of need washed over like an angry tide at the possessive motion, having always craved these moments. There was such a raw want in the actions- a hungry look lowering to parted lips and back up, I was weak and the invitation was easy to accept, chin dipping in the slightest.

 

 _Fuck it_ , a final thought before soft lips captured my own in a fierce kiss, not sparing a moment to deepen it.

 

All sense was flooded with a magnetic snare that only she would ever be capable of. Pulling back in the slightest with a feather breath and a tongue tempting across an already swollen bottom lip, her entrance was eagerly granted as sides switched. A heavy groan erupted at the contact as her unique taste overloaded every nerve ending, tongue eagerly pliant under her command- the first time had been hard enough to walk away from, to fight against and a second time was impossible. Pushing forward against roaming hands, lips pushed harder wanting Lexa everywhere all at once.

 

Fingers traced down lapels slowly, brushing under and up as arms shifted back to help pull the blazer off without hesitation, tossing it aside “ _Lexa_ ” breathless and consumed by need, breaking the kiss for air. The low, husky laugh taunted and teased against lips “you have no idea how badly I want to make you scream” head dropped back in offering with a shallow curse rasping free at the admission, her nose drawing slowly under a jaw slack with pleasure, lips and teeth building a familiar primal desire with every touch and nip.

 

Resolve was all but lost, hips pressing forward firmly to meet the strong thigh that pushed between shaking legs searching for the friction so desperately needed, a dirty sound vibrating from a heaving chest at the relieving pressure “ _then make me fucking scream, Lexa_ ” all inhibition lost, daring greed to surface as hips began to rock slow and purposeful, possessive thoughts finding pleasure in knowing that the ruined fabric was leaving my mark on the denim, on her. Tightness was wrapping rapid and low in a tensing abdomen, walls practically pulsing for her touch as all coherent thought was lost in the way she pinned forward strongly, confident hands slipping beneath a blouse to knead breasts and pinch straining peaks, pulling a sharp gasp at the contact. She always knew just what I needed.

 

The wetness pooling was quickly becoming unbearable with every caress that coaxed the tight coil dangerously, though not ever giving what was needed most. It was torture “please Lexa” words slipping without a second thought in devoted submission. Ending the assault on pale skin with one last departing bite and soothing pass of a warm tongue, breathe caught in my throat as blown pupils curved to devoured me. A quiet whimper escaped under her intensity, the sound foreign but welcomed “what about the girl at the front desk Clarke? What if she hears you moaning and pleading for me to fuck you harder?”

 

In a mind hazy with want Echo was the least of any concerns, moving to deftly unbutton the silk blouse. Shoulders shrugged, the material falling haphazardly on the desk and chest jutting forward in offering “I dont care who hears” unable to resist temptation, teeth pulling in a plump and flushed bottom lip as palms danced under the university hoodie. Nails slowly paced across and back, dipping just beyond the fitted band of denim and lace underwear before dragging up tense abs and back down, roughly marking olive skin an angry red. Shaking under the dark and dominating regard, willing walls throbbed with the anticipation of being filled by the brunette- it had been so long and I was tired of pretending that I didn’t want dreams to step over the boundary into reality and have her sink knuckle deep, “be careful what you wish for” a soft moan tangling with the growled response, teeth releasing a now bruised lip.

 

Giving sensitive nipples one last pinch and twist, lips closed the little distance between us roughly and swallowed a pitching gasp, a throaty groan taking its place. Soft pads trailed strong and sure over ribs, skin raising with every pass as my tongue pushed deeply against her own. The feelings igniting inside were obscene, lewd, erotic, all of the above. I wanted to be owned, surrounded, drowned- fucking burned alive by everything Lexa... and if the pressure of her thigh had been any greater when hands brushed over bare hips, the straining coil would have violently snapped right then and there.

 

Sucking her tongue between lips and breaking the kiss with a wet pop, dark depths instantly found me with foreheads resting together, “up” a quick command as palms squeezed cheeks greedily and pulled up. Curls fell back while hands claimed their path from my ass down thighs, stopping at the hem of the black pencil skirt. Legs lifted and hooked around her waist sure and secure, “please” begging quietly to stop the torture. Snaking a hand to dig in to brunette strands, lips connected in a crushing kiss- all teeth and tongue and messy, and fucking passionate. It was everything. It was intimate, hungry, and unadulterated. It was everything and more, everything I had been missing.

 

Eagerly pushing up and bunching the black cotton at my waist, nails teased the insides of thighs, hips canting in search of relief. A satiated sigh washed up as a nail drug up lightly along the hem of ruined panties, “god, you’re so wet for me” moaning throaty and low at the filthy words as fingers dipped beyond soaked fabric, breath catching with a sharp whine. Oxygen starved lungs stung deliciously as she pinched and teased the nerves between dripping lips, hips bucking of their own volition, seeking more “Lexa.. _please_ ”.

 

Without wasting another second, fingers traveled through slick folds and rolled against the sensitive bundle softly once before slipping to a quivering entrance. Tips shallowly plunged in with every pass, circling and teasing. Rocking with every stroke of her pads, the ache for more came naturally, body simply needing her. Capturing my lips quickly, full ones pulled in a dirty smirk that flipped my stomach at the underlying promise- two fingers burying deep in a smooth motion, a vulgar moan ripping from a straining throat at the electric sensation that hammered with no reprieve in sight. Muscles contracted desperate and thirsty at the contact, drawing long fingers further, eyes rolling back with carnal satisfaction as every thrust brushed deeply. Rolling in perfect tandem, tips curled against my front wall with long strokes, pulling to a tight entrance then sheathing to knuckles, free hand digging in to support my lower back and sure to leave a mark.

 

It was as though nothing had ever changed, the intensity of this moment consuming every sense, “fuck, Lexa!” her mouth eagerly shifted lower, marking a bare shoulder with an angry bruise as I reached up and fumbled through messy strands to keep her close. A rough scream of pleasure rang coarsely as a third finger thrusted inside, my own sounds unrecognizable- slick walls easily and willingly stretched to accommodate the filling intrusion “faster, god, please faster!” any care for who

heard was lost, breathless moans and pleas dancing in repetition as she took me for everything, thrusts driving faster and harder.

 

_Lexa._

_Lexa._

_Lexa._

 

Everywhere, overflowing every thought and want, feeding the appetite that clawed from the safety of a subconscious.

 

Sweat beaded, grinding motions on the cusp of faltering as every brush of her palm against a sensitive clit thrummed searing pleasure, “fuck, don’t stop” whimpering for release, unsure how much longer the building heat could keep spiraling lower and lower. A gasp pitched high, cold air hitting a glistening cunt and a now empty entrance as a foggy mind slowly caught up. Why did she stop? Mouth opening to demand she continue, the words were lost as I followed sticky fingers that disappeared slowly between soft lips, a husky moan ringing in satisfaction. Sitting frozen with legs spread wide for the brunette as heavy lidded eyes met, mouth closed and jaw clenched in an effort to keep this moment as it was- something sensual and rare.

 

Fingers slipped out with a small, wet pop. It was a lost cause to try and look away, this was depraved and I should of felt guilty but didn’t and wouldn’t “god you taste so good” guttural and seductive, charred hues casting darker in feral desire. I could have came right then and there as she spoke, reaching out tentatively to take her wrist and tug, gently urging closer. An impatient tongue flicked briefly in anticipation, every remaining ounce of will maintained eye contact as I wrapped around fingers slowly, teasing. Wet heat flowed as I lapped at the remnants of salty sweet musk, leisurely dragging her from my mouth with a vibrating groan and encouraging push down. There was no hesitation of understanding as she firmly pushed against the raised bud and between pink folds, cupping me fully “ohhhhh god” moaning deeply as she circled the swollen entrance once before filling me quick and rough.

 

There was nothing slow and sweet about this shift- this was pure primitive want taunting feral need. This was angry and nothing gentle, mouth claiming my shoulder and biting hard in the most delicious way. A hand drifted under her hoodie and dug in to a strong back, screams and moans mixing and legs locking her against me as hands found anything to hold on to- this was void of all inhibitions, hazy with pleasure. Hips began stuttering in a broken rhythm, “Lexa” finding words to beg, “cum for me” whispering soft against skin. Mind hardly registered the words before a thumb brushed firm circles to a needy clit and sent me to a crashing peak, wave after wave of icy heat stealing every ounce that could be offered, ears ringing over every sound as pleasure flashed behind lids. Walls greedily tried to pull Lexa in as deep as possible, back going rigid with the shallow strokes prolonging the messy fall.

 

Strong thighs twitched softly around the smaller waist in the aftermath, vision and breath slowly returning to normal “fuck” choking for air as the storm settled and a shiver raised skin at the cooling sweat. We stayed like that for what felt like hours, foreheads resting and smells mixing as the dizzying shocks tapered. Lungs and cunt were spent with elation brimming as I played with the soft strands at her nape, a whisper of protest finding its way past lips when she slipped from my entrance, leaving the channel empty and sore. It had been so long since this feeling saw reality, so long since I had felt so complete.

 

Three years spent pretending that Lexa meant nothing.

 

 _Lexa meant everything._

 

Grip tightening, bright gazes met briefly before the distance was closed, connecting bruised lips languidly. There was no rushing to this moment, no rough claims or battle for dominance and demands of submission. This was us, for just this moment this was us. This was full of understanding and apologies. This was things left unspoken and forgiveness. This was us and not a single thing in the world could ever invalidate this invaluable moment.

 

“It’s getting late, Clarke” lips leaving mine, skin raising as the words brushed in a soft breath. Pulling back and meeting her halfway, nothing but unconditional reverence reflected as hands trailed to cup flushed cheeks “you should head home and get some sleep” a feather peck pressing to my lips. The gentle moment was suspended and frozen in time as blue and green flicked between one another slowly, searching “I will see you at the gallery” a small smile curving as she spoke, brushing a damp blonde strand aside before stepping back and around. I watched as the brunette opened the office door, offering one last tender glance and smile before the solid wood clicked shut.

 

Reaching up, a shaking finger ran across lips on fire, mind reeling at a million miles an hour. That something that I couldn’t quite place earlier had been in her kiss, her smile, her look... it branded to curiosity. It was something noticed before but not acknowledged. Pushing from the desk, hands quickly fixed black cotton at my waist and tugged the silk blouse and blazer back on before running through the disaster up top in an attempt to look moderately presentable. What had I done? Dread flowed thickly, there was not a chance in the world that Echo hadn’t heard anything, but staying in the office forever wasn’t a viable solution. Organizing the strewn papers on the desk, nervous thoughts tried to buy time in the hopes that the assistant would be clocked out by the time I left.

 

Tapping a file to straighten the papers before setting it down neatly, perhaps it was easier to just leave instead of trying to buy imaginary time. Drawing a deep breath it blew smoothly as heels tapped and a shoulder shrugged to balance the weight of the purse tossed up. Sweeping the room once more, my stomach twisted in want for the brunette. In here they were them, alone and hidden, secret and safe. An anxious sigh released and a clammy hand flipped the light switch, the heavy door closing gently. Nervous steps landed slowly, body freezing in place as the last corner was rounded and brown held blue. Swallowing the lump in my throat dryly, lips parted to speak though nothing found voice, “Clarke” mouth snapped shut at her tone cutting the silence “yes?” the single word rasping coarse and quiet. The silence that stretched seemed to disappear for miles, teeth chewing the inside of a cheek restlessly. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

 

Just as courage had built enough to wish her a good evening the thick air was cut with a smile “I hope you have a good night” brows pulled down in the slightest as thoughts frantically adjusted to the sudden 180, “Yeah... Thank you Echo, you too” a timid laugh sounding, legs moving in long strides towards the door “one more thing” feet stopped in haste, nails digging into a palm and body tensing in distress at the words “I finished a second walkthrough of the gallery an hour ago. It looks great” canting to the side I met her gaze in apprehension, the underlying words not missed, finding only sincerity “I had your help” a thankful smile tugging lightly “don’t stay too late, you’ve earned some rest” her chin dipped in acknowledgement, relief washing over as I continued out the doors.

 

My secret was safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? Comments?
> 
>  
> 
> Leave them below!


	5. Must Have Lost My Mind pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT IS DONE!
> 
> This past month or so has been crazy! Also, if anyone ever has to write a best man speech, I am borderline a pro now. After countless hours of reading and watching youtube videos, I wrote my speech, then proceeded to spend hours rehearsing it.... and only said 1/3 of it, winging the rest. 
> 
> Somewhere in-between all of that, I managed to not just rewrite this about as many times as my speech, but edit and finish! This chapter is also posted parallel with ch.4 no longer sitting as a rough product, now edited/revised. If you would like to read the finished product, it is there, though it does not change anything in ch.5. I may return to revise this chapter once I have gotten more than two hours of sleep.
> 
> Finn makes an appearance, showcasing some classic arrogance... I always feel I owe you all some relief from those moments so have added some Clexa action to counteract his... existence.
> 
>  
> 
> Songs that wrote this were PILLOW TALK - The Analog Affair, SELFISH - The Kite String Tangle, UGLY - Jaira Burns, TERRIFIED - Childish Gambino, GENGHIS KHAN - Miike Snow
> 
>  
> 
> This will be from Lexa's POV.
> 
> Happy reading! :)

4 MONTHS AGO...

 

 

 

 

Tonight... God.

 

Tonight, was the gallery and yesterday was... something that would not ever escape memory even when old consumed aching bones and a weathered mind was long gone. Yesterday would undoubtedly follow my shadow to the grave. Ghosts of her taste still lingered on a selfish tongue, a drug that there would not ever be enough of- Big Pharma could make a killing.

 

Let us make something _unmistakably clea_ r; am I a religious person? Not really, no... but there was something about being with Clarke that tempted knees to fall to the ground in a dutiful prayer of gratitude, something that lifted the dirtiest desires from unknown depths, desires that encouraged those same prayers to bid an overture of repentance and beg for penance. I could not help but watch her with such an impalpable reverence when she tipped her peak and fell from heaven in the most beautifully destructive relapse- I wished to be reborn again and again in that moment, to consummate my rebirth in the unholy mess that flooded my cunt at the sinfully delicious sight.

 

I was not religious, no... but I would worship Clarke if she asked me to.

_Fuck_.

 

Without even trying she had walked right through every door, snatching the keys to every lock along the way. After leaving for New York, every door had shut, locks slid into their rightful places and every light switching off after our argument. Stupid was written next to the _I love you_ that so often tried to voice itself while heart wrestled with mind. It was battling an addiction that you knew would always end in loss, a loss that was a welcome disaster.

 

Tussling carefully waves strands and criticizing the reflection- how had things fallen back into familiar routine so quickly? How could every semblance of carefully constructed self-control turn its back like it had not ever existed? How could every rule protecting a bruised heart be broken within days? Hours?

 

This is where desire fought violently with reality, each demanding undivided attention, invading every aspect of existence. Head and heart were in a constant impasse. Common sense said that yesterday had been a mistake, while self-indulgence reminded how much I had missed being inside her walls, stroking a mile high just to watch the extraordinary fall.

 

Fresh images of Clarke moaning, writhing, shaking, screaming… all flashed slowly. My name still echoed through desire, falling from lips in that alluring sensual draw, each breath touching sinful lips in a way so similar to how my impatient tongue traced them in sweeping claims. A hungry throb rippled through my apex, jaw locking tensely in a desperate effort to pull back the feelings overflowing (literally). This woman would be the death of me, I was sure of it.

 

Traveling over the mirror a final time, it would do. She liked it best like this, simple- black trousers and sheer cotton with minimal makeup. Just like that I was now dressing for her. Gathering the scattered pieces of common sense and putting them back in their place seemed to move further and further from reach. Holding on to the hopeless endeavor of an us, what could or could not be, was simply childish love shadowing logic. Then again, love is not ever logical, is it? It was dangerous and devilish- it would make you feel alive as it stabbed you in the back, all the while you asked for more.

 

The night ahead was sure to be long, and whether good or bad was yet to be determined.

 

Rubbing clammy palms together, just the act of setting aside the fine dishware for dinner was enough to unsettle every nerve and fray every end. This was ridiculous, acting like a giddy school girl trying to impress a first crush. Could you really lay blame though? Have you seen her? Unmatched beauty. Heard her voice? The way she rasped my name, jesus the things it did. Felt her body? Every path fingers traveled was memorized with every hitch of breath. Clarke was… an ethereal and enlightening encounter, every time.

 

Sliding the ceramic pan into the oven and setting the timer to start later, the thought of dessert briefly crossed- chocolate mousse? Cheesecake? Brownie and ice cream? A brûlée? Too many options and not enough willpower to decide.

 

Wine it was.

 

Glancing to the time, the energy that had been building inside twisted and turned, knotting over and over, choking relentlessly tighter with every step closer to the garage. A smoke sure to stay for the evening distracted from the moment the German motor rumbled to life, all the way to the gallery and only increased tenfold when the gentle sound of piano music kissed ears, eyes easily resting on curves highlighted _just right_ by a wickedly elegant blue dress. There was no question the fitting dress was for my own, unadulterated pleasure.

 

Tracing her from head to toe, to say the momentary slip of emotions reflected in bright blues when we met was surprising, would have been an injustice. This went far beyond surprise, heated promises inching towards a scandalous zone not ever touched upon beyond fleeting looks when we thought the other was not paying attention, or the comfortable silence not ever verbally agreed to when gentle caresses brought sleep after a rough, passion filled night.

 

Snapping away and fluidly plucking a glass of wine from a tray, focus needed to stay, these unwanted and risky emotions needed balance. This road was fatal, and sanity became a distant wish. Clarke Griffin was the epitome of everything designed to unravel someone from the inside out, she was the epitome of everything that threw a guarded heart into a reckless spiral and everything that could expand a chest with the overwhelming sense of so very fucking right and so very fucking scary and wrong, equally.

 

What a pleasure and a curse it was to be in love with the devil herself.

 

Tipping the glass, a soft breath blew at the warming Cabernet, “not too bad” speaking quietly, beginning a tour through the curations. Starting at the front where it was busiest and slowly working towards the back, the layout and ambiance were purely impeccable- the attention to detail, lighting, the currant and wood flavor of the wine, and the hand selected artists. Clarke had profoundly outdone herself and was by far no longer the naive college student with big dreams- clearly at the pinnacle of her career and it showed.

 

Passing one of the last curations, feet stopped dead about as quick as a rapid heart had started, breath catching sharply. Studying the few paintings, lungs starved of oxygen ached in a reminder to breathe. It was me. These paintings...they were me, they were us. Heels carried forward and ignored the Do Not Touch signs, magnetically drawn closer, fingers delicately tracing the outline of a steaming coffee cup cradled between hands known as my own, full lips painted in what she claimed was a “signature smirk”, green eyes colored bright and pale, staring back intensely. Stepping back and draining the wine glass, I studied the series of illuminated paintings and sketches, each beautifully stroked to canvas in black and white, save for the first one splashed with green.

 

This felt too personal, too intimate, body feeling as though it was shaking with the knowledge of these pieces, able to recall every moment.

 

There were a total of 5; the coffee cup a morning we had spent in the cafe helping one another study, the figure wrapped in a sheet playing a piano by candlelight, a forest lit only by moonlight, a woman covered in paint with hair pulled in a dangerously loose bun as ducks were fed in front of a pond, and lastly one figure pinning another to a wall with fingers laced, both wearing finely crafted masquerade masks as lips hovered with eyes closed.

 

Every single one was a memory that dreams had relived more than once. Every single one, haunting. Every single one a part of a past that would not ever leave. This feeling… It felt… Exposing, scary, like any one of these people could idly walk by and make the connection. It was obvious, though, that caution had guided hands- intricate details altered just enough to appear different, just enough so that the chances of someone exposing our secret life was near to none.

 

“I almost thought you weren’t going to show” heart dangerously wrapped by the familiar rasp. Steps were heard long before words- the thought crossed that the sound could be easily picked from a crowd of one thousand without a doubt, and equally, just as every part of her. Head tilting to the side, gazes met in a shameless captivation of one another “and miss seeing you in that dress? You could not ever be so lucky” tongue clicking with the obvious tease, testing the boundaries.

 

A swell of arrogance washed over, watching her cheeks flush and eyes look away to the paintings “do you like them?” throat clearing to change the subject, a smirk pulling at the sound as I regarded the art once more “I do… The gallery looks better than I could have ever imagined, Clarke” the softness of the words surprised even myself. A knowing shiver ran rampant down my spine, painfully aware that her gaze had shifted to sweep hungrily, stopping to linger on my lips “you should be proud” speaking barely above a whisper, drawing her desire back up.

 

We were so close, _so close._ All it would take is closing the remaining foot between us, twelve inches and our lips could meet in rapture. It was a risky thought, with all these people around, but she would willingly allow it by second nature alone, without an ounce of doubt.

 

It was moments like these where peace was found, tethered in place by our shared thread. It was moments like these that had fingers twitching with the demand to touch, to feel her composure come undone underneath me. It was moments like these that there was not even a semblance of a second thought about sinking between her legs, right here where anyone could catch us. Dropping to her lips, I wanted nothing more than to swipe across them and savor the lingering champagne they undoubtedly tasted like, “Lexa” moving back up, the hidden question not missed in the single statement, the persuading undertone stealing the remaining strength from already weak knees. She did not have to say it to be heard, the bob of her throat and breathless voice exposed her want.

 

“Clarke, we should talk abou-“ jumping slightly at the interruption- if looks could kill then Finn would have been a resolved problem years ago “what should we be talking about?” His rude interjection meeting a deafening silence, fingers tightening around the wine glass in a white-knuckled grip, leveling him stoically. He was the absolute last person I expected to see here, let alone wanted too.

 

Flicking briefly to Clarke, the discomfort in her posture was enough to send blood pressure sky rocketing, mind and body fighting violently in an eager bid for permission to force those filthy hands from her waist “Finn” sharp and emotionless with a slight dip of my chin. She would reprimand me for it later, but I really am trying here, it is just so hard to be nice when all you can imagine is finally laying one into the mouth of someone you could not stand.

 

A million thoughts raced, mostly those involving humiliating the disgrace called boyfriend, who currently had an arm wrapped around a little too possessively and grip much too tight… treating her like an object, a piece of property. A growl of disapproval caught just in time- since when did _he_ develop an interest in the art she pursued? Better yet, if he was going to be here to simply try and strut around a fantasy “Alpha Male” status and stare me down, the least he could do was pretend to be here for _her_ and not his own selfish want to display… whatever he was trying to display. Dominance? Ownership? Both were failing miserably regardless. 

 

Tightening grip nearly broke the glass when their lips met in a forced kiss. It was not loving and languid, not passionate, or lustful, no, it was as though he was trying to remind Clarke that she was his. My tongue caught between teeth, resisting the rapidly growing urge to speak without thinking.

Loosening the glass and stretching stiff joints, wrangling in the natural impulse to protect was proving tougher than ever before and if a confrontation was to be avoided, now was the chance. Glancing to the side, her gaze met halfway, pleading to just drop it. The thought of making a scene briefly tempted hands, wanting nothing more than to strike the smug look off his face, but... I could not do that to her, not here, not now, it would not be fair.

 

Comfort was easily found in the fact that one of us was here for the right reasons, and it certainly was not him. 

 

 _“_ We can talk more  about prices and commission pieces for the lobby later?” the edge softened as gratitude reflected brightly in her blues for not causing a scene, there was something else too that felt like… disgust? As though she was reassuring that she wanted nothing more than to have his hands off, “yes, absolutely” nodding gently. Shifting to the man-child on her left, pleasure was found in holding him with a cold regard, digging into insecurities “I should be going. I apologize that we were not able to catch up, perhaps next time” a small smirk curving in gluttonous satisfaction as irritation flashed at the easy dismissal- I had touched a nerve and could not be happier with the result, reveling in success.

 

It felt good to get under his skin, to prod and taunt…Childish, yes, but so very fucking vindicating. Brushing past Finn briskly, I was far too eager to escape the suffocating cloud of cologne and fill lungs with something much better.

 

Setting the empty wine glass on a nearby table, feet found their way to a quieter hall, pushing a bathroom door open with a sigh of relief releasing some of the tension binding my chest. These feelings needed to reel back now, they should have been redacted years ago, but how do you watch the woman you love kiss someone else… _him_ of all people, and are okay with it? Bracing hands against the edge of the stone counter and finding the mirror- how do you become okay with seeing that?

 

It was an admission of gluttony every time, and truthfully, it would be a lie to say there was a want for this feeling to stop. There was, but also not… Hopefully that makes sense? Perhaps it was much simpler than we think though? Maybe, human nature was to be a glutton for self-inflicted punishment more than anything else. Are we all not in some way? Addiction, love versus lust, wanting what you cannot have, adam and eve, a forbidden fruit… et cetera. You get the point.

 

Shifting from the reflection and turning on the water, I splashed heated cheeks, hoping it would help the need between legs simmer down. This was ridiculous, the jealousy that gripped from every crevice and corner, insistent to be felt everywhere. But, no matter how deeply this love tortured, _she was not mine_.

 

She was not mine…

 

The arrogant scoff that quietly vibrated at the thought would have been surprising if it had been the first time, because _she was mine_. Every time dilated blue eyes trapped me in their snare, their depths demanding that the offending cotton barriers be ripped from her body. Every time those same eyes followed my descent to hell, short breaths begging and pleading for my tongue to dive into her dripping entrance, to reward with the filling sensation that hips chased and searched for with abandon. Every time raspy words left to scream _my name_ , in repetition with ‘ _don’t stop’_ and ‘ _right there’_. Every time she came so beautifully in the most intense accolade. Every time she screamed _my name_ in tandem with God- maybe I was the devil incarnate and not her. Maybe I was the demon that taunted her with my honey words, luring a victim to willingly succumb to a _menage a trois_.

 

Clarke may be tied to that poor excuse of a man through commitment… But her body bent to _my_ desires, consenting and obedient to being controlled, to being led through a rollercoaster of intimate affliction followed by promised, powerful relief.

 

How could another human being make you so weak? How was it that this woman had been the sole cause of both freezing and unfreezing such a carefully guarded heart?

 

Drawing a deep breath, the door opening did not echo without attention. Slow taps entered the bathroom, the soft click and slide of the lock following shortly after. It was no secret who had followed, and even less a secret that she had been very blatantly avoiding any extended interaction for the last month- leaving the café just before or just after my shifts, exchanges kept to the bare minimum of ‘have a good day’ ‘hello’ ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’, just so happened to be conveniently busy **every** time Octavia and Lincoln invited her over and I showed up or was there.

 

It was not hard to understand the actions, truly, if anything it should have been expected by now. The thought of texting had crossed many times, if even just to ask how her day was going. However, words remained stuck at the tips of hovering fingers.

 

So... Imagine the multitude of emotions tangling with surprise when my phone vibrated with her name, and it was a bit selfish, but a sense of accomplishment and pride swelled at the realization that she still had my number. The events that had followed that evening were the start of something, though what that something was? Still on the table for debate.

 

In hindsight, the inevitability of yesterday should have not ever been brushed aside as a fools wish. We always found a way back to one another.

 

Fear saturated the idea that there was not ever a chance of forgetting the way my name sounded as it fell from those lips. There would not be enough of in this lifetime, or any other. Then there was the memory of  a symphony of moaning and whimpering, grinding her need against me. Arousal had hung thick in the air, unmistakable want clear with the heat between thighs pressed tightly against my lower half.

 

That night, sat on a wooden bench, tongues and hands brushing so smoothly- it felt like a dream some days. Perhaps… it had been? That would have been convincing enough if the next morning had not been sober with a fading scent of vanilla and lavender, unraveling an already wavering existence- second only to the taste of coconut chap stick mixed with whiskey on my lips.

 

That stupid chap stick.

 

Turning off the water, fingers flicked gently into the sink as skin raised at the bristling cold tsunami that had swallowed the room. The silence that stretched was maddening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathes mixing in a way that was too reminiscent of her curves pinning and stripping me to a complete, needy mess in my own home- a favor greedily returned in full not even two full days ago.

 

Damp hands tugged at rolled up sleeves as a slow breath expanded and then deflated softly in a low sigh, fingers smoothing sheer white cotton, “Clarke” clipping matter-of-factly as eyes met in the mirror. Raging waves crashed with nature’s own fury in a violent push and pull, with muscles flexed tense. The temptation of wanting to bend and snap under the pressure coaxed lingering thoughts of a heavy door slamming and body still burning... Crimson lips pursing, a strong jaw commanded defiance. This fight was far from over.

 

“Lexa” clipping back with just as much fervor, not once shifting away from our battle in the mirror.

 

Hopes had been too wistful, losing reality in her taste and the memories they shook to life, convincing myself that things could, by some far away chance, find their way back to how they had been so long ago. Though the choice offered in my living room- it had been hers to deny or accept and she had accepted; thoughts of why had plagued the days since, ignited further by the shared passion in her office. The choice offered then had also been hers to deny or accept. Two for two.

 

What did she want from me?

 

Sleep was an evasive treasure, and even when sleep did finally happen, dreams overflowed with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a body twisting with a dark desire for pleasure at the mercy of my own fingertips. Blues in the mirror gave away a small shift, curiosity and confusion blooming as a sculpted brow lifted in the slightest at the storm settling, the cold tsunami transitioning into a warm drizzle.

 

As her guard let down slowly, mine only seemed to fortify, unsure of what game was being played.

 

“You could have been a little nicer to him. He is protective since… that night… But he does idolize you, ya know...” my jaw worked tightly as the words threw gasoline on the jealousy, “Why would I do that Clarke? He’s a _boy_ , who is here for only himself.” Scoffing at the unthinkable suggestion, “Do you want me to apologize for hurting his feelings? Or?” words colored in sarcasm. I was not sorry and would not be. Ever.

 

Clearly something was missed over the course of less than forty-eight hours, or even less, the course of fifteen minutes. Since when did she start defending him? “Lexa, I thi-“ she must have had too much champagne “no Clarke, no. I will not apologize, so please do not ask”. This was a mistake, “Lexa” Coming here had been a mistake.

 

Well, okay, coming here had not been a mistake, I wanted too. She really had out done herself, really, I genuinely was proud and would have dropped the world to be here.

 

Was I really going to allow Finn to taint this?

 

“Look” exasperation slipped through, pulling back in with swallowed pride. Turning to lean against the counter, we met in a momentary steadfast, “I apologize if it upset you” it was honest, probably the most honest act recently committed “You just deserve so much more than that… _whatever he is_ , not to mention, how small does your dick have to be to use a whole bottle of cologne? Seriously! It does not even smell that great, how do you not suffocate? And yes, maybe my opinion is a bit bias but-“, “ _LEXA”_ lips snapped shut, a shiver running unforgivably in resounding authority. Blues held me captive as she moved forward, the moisture all but leaving my mouth at the musical chuckle that left her lips, tongue pushing to a cheek in resistance.

 

God, save me from this temptation. One step… one step and beautiful salvation would be found on her lips, “are you going to let me finish?” the whisper hit dead center, the sensual undertone hard to miss as she stopped just short of connecting our lips.

 

Thick silence filled the room as a battle of wills waged, a smirk pulling at corners. This opportunity screamed to be seized “ _Clarke_ ” rasping with a low, mocking chuckle “when have I _ever_ denied you a _finish_?” Hook, line, and sinker. Just like that, bright blues shifted to the deepest depths, pupils overwhelming her clear ocean.

 

The charged tension filling the room built anticipation, waiting for the shock that would rocket my heart into irreversible palpations, “Well?” testing the waters, unsure if this moment was truly as it seemed, or if I had just been so starved of her touch that this was all an imagination. If there was one thing about Clarke that was undeniable, but completely unpredictable, was to not ever get comfortable in a singular assumption.

 

As the silence stretched, discomfort began to settle- had a boundary been overstepped? Surely, she would have said something, right?

 

Instinctually glancing down as she sucked a glossy bottom lip between teeth, I itched to pull it between my own instead, “My eyes are up here, Lex” right, yes, focus… But, jesus! Like drowning in her eyes was any better opposed to drowning in thoughts of claiming that mouth with purpose. This was not a battle that was won, not when that nickname was uttered, not when pitted against… _her_.

 

Fingers gripped the edge of the counter tightly, resisting every urge that screamed to push forward and take with dominance, her intoxicating presence reducing sanity to a messy puddle of wants, “Ask me that question again, later at dinner” eyebrow raised in challenge. Chin dipping in agreement once, trust in words to form an appropriate sentence fell short with the way she was staring through me, “I was going to say that I think jealous you is pretty fucking hot” what? Words went from falling short to lost, brows knitting serious at the admission, mind thrown for the largest loop since seeing her for the first time after three years.

 

Question after question raced, weird time, right? Overthinking is sort of a second nature at this point and having the single most debilitating force standing right before me was not helping. She thought the display of jealousy was hot? What kind of game was this? First defending that… thing, and now saying she enjoyed the show? “you find it, _hot_?” regarding heavily, testing her, “Yes Lexa, that is what I said. I think its _hot_ , knowing how bent you get when you see him around me, when he kisses me- yeah I didn’t miss that” the low laugh that followed was dangerous, preying on my protective qualities. This was all intentional, trying to get a rise, and it was helpless to dismiss the feeling, helpless to pretend that it did not poke and prod because it all did, more than anything.

 

Tensing my jaw at the words, the growl trying to crawl out at the thought of Finn kissing her, touching her, was quickly swallowed “you know what else?” she was baiting, damnit, and it was fruitless to fight against the natural instinct to willingly walk towards the trap “what?” the word leaving sharp and quick before it could be stopped. Her answering smirk was obvious enough, “knowing that you get jealous makes me… So. Fucking. _Wet_ ” my throat bobbed with a dry swallow at that, can a girl get a hail mary here? A glass of water?

 

This was unfair and dirty play, “as though seeing you in this outfit wasn’t ruining my underwear enough” too close now, she was too fucking close, hips brushing against my own with a hand tapping finger tips gently against a heaving chest in a slow, torturous travel north “I am damn near out you know. These are your favorite ones too, the thin blue lacey thong you love on me?” humming sweetly as my eyes closed to try and find some sense of composure with hands white-knuckling the counter.

 

It was a bad idea, the worst of the night honestly. Images of touching the soaked fabric flooded through- images of pushing it aside to dip into her warmth and drag it across a sensitive clit, images of eagerly pulling them down to offer full access, fingers moving deep in teasing strokes.

 

 Jesus Christ, I needed cold shower to help get it together, but how could anyone when her unique smell was suffocating in the best way possible, fingers accelerating my heart beat dangerously with every touch to skin, a painted nail dragging across my bottom lip. Lids fluttered open, watching as hungry eyes followed her own finger, lips parting obediently as she trapped me in dark pupils and pushed two against my tongue. Holding her gaze, lips and tongue wrapped slowly with a low moan vibrating at the contact. Gingerly releasing the fingers with one last long sweep, our foreheads resting together and lips barely brushing.

 

Trying to allow her this control was given under the guidance of a desperate fight- to let her decide this moment with damp fingers dug into my nape, gripping strongly in her own resistance. These were rare and normally did not last, but I _wanted_ this, wanted her to be in control, _craved it._

 

“Come on, _Lexa_ ” taunting in a low melody that hit my core and sent a shiver racing down, “kiss me like I know you wanted to before _Finn_ interrupted you” brushing our noses as she switched sides, lips parting at the temptation “take what’s yours” the words were barely above a whisper, but heard, their searing heat felt in the breath against skin. They snapped me, just like she wanted, completely shattering false resolve as I pushed forward and captured her with force, enough to make sure not a single memory about the way he kissed her could surface, let alone at all. Sucking her bottom lip between teeth, a groan resounded at her answering moan, biting down roughly before soothing it with a slow suck.

 

Switching sides without breaking the kiss there was no need for permission as she opened with a shuddering beg, tongue dragging and tasting in a deep tease, stroking to the roof of her mouth and hesitating momentarily as she chased in blind lust before dipping down to tangle in a battle for dominance, the answering hungry moan vibrating to my center.

 

Falling victim to the movements was inevitable- in the way her chest pushed tightly forward, and hands wandered, hips pinning while mouth claimed, “ _Clarke!_ ” the sharp gasp leaving at the familiar fingers that entered slick folds. Pleasure shocked at the gentle caresses searching to familiarize, moving to cup my dripping cunt with palm pressed firmly to a sensitive bundle and tips shallowly dipped inside. Rocking forward into the touch, the need for more and more was a taunting chase, body moving in slow strokes of its own volition, having lost control long ago. Fingers pushed in with every grinding motion, lightly brushing the soft front wall as I fucked myself against her palm, her tongue eagerly swallowing the moans that slipped with every motion.

 

It was hard not to give in to these temptations, and I tried, really had tried. But _fuck_ , she knew just how to kiss and stroke to her will. This felt so reminiscent of burying between pale legs at the company gala, wanting to drown in her ocean if that is what it took, not daring to come up for air until her body was breathless and spent above me. Only this time the begs for more were falling from my lips in breathless pleas, every brush against my clit winding low, tighter and tighter. This time it was different somehow, because this time there was no hiding behind the guise of a company gala and simply befriending the daughter of her boyfriend’s boss- it was her own curated showing.

 

This time it was in a place where people _would_ notice that Clarke was gone, and _she did not care_. This time she had openly admitted that she wanted to lose control just as much out on that floor, and _she did not care._

It was different, because the risk was there and yet… caution was heedlessly thrown to the wind in favor of following into this bathroom and fucking me. Circumstances begged the question of _why._ Why was this so different? Why not care? Why make this decision, fully aware of what was at stake? Fully aware of the possible ramifications and strain it could put on the relationship with Finn, or her mother.

 

What had changed?

 

This situation was perplexing to say the least, and furthermo- “fuck!” head throwing back and breaking our kiss, the words ripping in a strangled whisper of surprise as fingers penetrated in one, quick motion, burying to the knuckle to fill and stretch swollen walls. Lifting heavy lids and glancing down, blown pupils met in dirty laced tension. Clarke held me securely against the counter with her hips, a devious smirk slowly tugging as fingers curled and slowly withdrew from my entrance- the urge for eyes to flutter shut in pleasure was embarrassingly high, every last bit of strength resisting to maintain our eye contact, nearly breaking when she teased my sensitive front wall.

 

A quiet whimper blew out at the emptiness that had taken place, the moment gone all too soon. Moving to protest the sudden turn of events that had left me empty and on edge, the words never manifested beyond a thought as sticky fingers pushed past lips and drew a low groan of pleasure from my throat, my own taste saturating my tongue in an overwhelmingly delicious mix of sweet musk and the salt of her fingers.

 

Time became lost on how long we stood there after her fingers had been dutifully cleaned of the mess I had made, but it did not feel long enough as an echoing knock on the door broke the moment “it will just be a moment!” raspy voice music to ears as she called out, blues not once shifting our contact. There was a brief second of hesitation before soft lips were capturing in a gentle kiss, leaving just as quickly as they had started and long before a foggy mind could catch up.

 

A shadow of confusion settled, “fix your hair and shirt, you look a little frazzled _Lexa_ ” the taunt hung heavily, red flushing up my neck as I followed the sway of her hips on her way out.

 

Quickly turning to observe the mirror, she was right. Rolling my eyes and hastily fixing the hurricane of hair, the door clicking open had hands stopping mid brush against my stomach, a nervous energy tightening in my chest as Octavia walked cautiously forward. The look shared was unreadable, her intentions hidden well- opening my mouth to speak she swiftly held up her hand to stop words before they began, “I hope you know what you two are doing” slowly finishing the straightening brushes across my shirt, holding my tongue painfully between teeth and slipping a mask of indifference in place.

 

Thirty-seven seconds of silence.

 

Thirty-seven seconds is what I counted as the meaning of her words were allowed to sit heavy on my shoulders, “this isn’t college anymore Lexa. I won’t tell you to stop or cut it off, you are adults, but be more careful. That could have been anyone knocking” our gazes held in the mirror for a few moments, respectfully listening before daring words “is this the best friend talk?” quipping with a dry laugh, itching to be anywhere else but under the prying eye and words of the fiery brunette.

 

Octavia and I… We have a mutual respect and understanding, but vastly different and fragile views when it came to our shared love’s for Clarke.

 

“mm, I would say it’s more of a ‘don’t play with fire too long’ sort of talk… and a best friend talk” humming with a disapproving undertone, her head tilting in the slightest. Nodding in humble acknowledgement, her leave was heard more than seen, a deep breath sounding that I had not known I was holding. Shaking hands raised to rub the impending migraine from temples with a low sigh- it would never be openly admitted, but Octavia was right. Clarke and I should not be doing this, should not have ever done it even back in college, but… Just… It was just something that could not be helped.

 

Weakness was love, and I was so _profoundly_ in love, something that slipped through every thread of control and suffocated common sense.

 

They suggest that when an addiction is clear, it is because you have mentally and physically become reliant on the feeling of an altering substance. What they never addressed was that-that could also be a person, at least that is what I thought. Clarke and I, we… We had ups easily as much as downs, a connection on a level no one else knew, let alone could understand. If you were to ask either of us, the addictive downs were non-existent- drugs, alcohol, and sex. Everything your parents tell you not to do. Funny how that works, right?

 

A bitter chuckle left my lips, head shaking just the slightest in disbelief at the events that had unfolded since moving. Brushing sheer cotton once more, I left the bathroom and returned to the gallery, eagerly sweeping a wine glass from a waiter. Downing the cabernet in two quick swallows, the empty glass was traded for a new one “it’s good wine” muttering a weak defense to the waiter and walking away to continue touring the art. Shallowly sipping the warm alcohol, the burning journey down was a welcome feeling, freeing torturing thoughts of how simply blonde hair and blue eyes had dissolved every edge of will in seconds.

 

Glancing past glass, it was effortless to find the ocean hues across the room, breath hitching in the slightest at the sultry suggestion found in their depths, despite the possessive arm around her waist. A feverish desire shot straight down, as though suffering on the cusp of a world-shattering orgasm was not bad enough. Throat bobbing thickly, it took everything to turn and break the beckoning tether, Octavia’s words ringing distantly, warning to be more careful.

 

Walking aimlessly, it was easy to keep busy between idle conversation and comedic banter. Some recognized me as my mother’s successor, and others did not know who I was at all- those that did not find me familiar were the breaths of fresh air needed. Looking to the time, nearly an hour had passed and the showing was close to finishing, a blanket of anxiousness building at the thought of having Clarke over.

 

What would become of tonight? If she allowed it, I would love nothing more than to remind her of who was in control, her earlier actions not so carelessly forgotten or excused. She knew what she was doing, and would surely get her reward… Or punishment, however you saw it. Finding my favorite color, a devilish smirk drew my corners in a promising tease, finishing my final glass of cabernet and setting it aside, turning smoothly to leave, the blonde’s dripping discomfort practically felt from the distance.

 

Keeping thoughts on track was a tougher fight then anticipated- we truly did need to talk… then she could lay in the bed she had made, sure to beg for mercy in the climb to deliverance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Suggestions? Comments?
> 
> Leave them below!


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